Business and Pleasure
by SquishyCool
Summary: Beth Greene is on summer break after her first year of college. With help from her dad, she lands an internship as an assistant to the successful Daryl Dixon. He's quiet, mysterious, and all business - but will she learn more from him than she intended? Beth and Daryl AU/slow burn/eventual M rating. *on hiatus until I finish "Most Wanted"*
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

The beginning of summer arrived in Georgia alongside relentless rain and overcast days. The sun still seemed to beat down through long breaks in the clouds but the humidity wasn't quite so torturous considering it was falling from the sky more often than not. Nightfall came later than usual and brought light drizzles with it to emerge from the star-speckled dark skies. Everywhere you drove in Georgia, you saw pedestrians with umbrellas, people making dashes from their curbside cars to the shelter of business entrances and awnings. Patios and outdoor cafes were all but abandoned, tables and chairs dripping with rainwater. Daryl Dixon didn't mind it, though. These days, all of his work took place indoors, and when he did have to bear the weather and travel somewhere, he had a dry, cozy car to take cover in and enjoy the ride.

It was mid-afternoon and the city passed by in a water-speckled haze as Daryl drove, one hand holding a cigarette partly out the window while the other rested its grip at the top of the steering wheel. He was driving outside of the city today, to the farm of a new acquaintance, and as he picked up speed on the open highway, buildings and houses and mobile homes quickly faded, becoming more and more sparse until all he could see for miles was open fields, green grass and crops, even scattered ponds in the far off distance. Parts of the land were already becoming flooded, and some of the ponds were only a few inches of rain short of overflowing. Once he'd passed the large, green sign that read **Senoia 10** , he took a couple of turns down roads that led away from the highway, offering only crunching gravel beneath the tires of his year-old Cadillac, as well as splattering mud. He didn't mind driving out here, but he loathed every time that he'd have to get a car wash soon after returning to the city.

He was just thinking of lighting up another smoke when he spotted the sight of the large, white farmhouse in the near distance. Even in the wet and gloomy weather, people were visible working outside, scattered throughout the large yard and nearby barn. As he approached the property, he slowed and turned cautiously onto a long driveway with a mailbox at the end, dripping with rain but still legible: _Greene Family Farm_.

He coasted quietly down the driveway until he was closer to the house, coming to a stop and putting the car in park and pulling out the keys. He turned from unbuckling his seatbelt to see an old, white-haired man approaching him from where he'd stood on the porch. His bearded face held a welcoming expression, and his blue eyes twinkled amidst his whitened hair and bushy eyebrows.

Hershel Greene was a farmer and a retired veterinarian, though he still did most of the veterinary work around his own farm. Daryl had made his acquaintance through a man named Rick Grimes who worked for the sheriff's department. He'd been one of the arresting officers and testifying witnesses in the case of Daryl's felonious older brother, Merle, and they'd become good friends as well as valuable connections to each other. Rick had suggested his friend, Hershel, when Daryl had mentioned he was thinking of purchasing some land for his own personal use. It was one of the reasons he'd ever aspired to climb as high in his career as he did – the thought of having a few acres of land all to himself were a peaceful dream to Daryl.

Once Daryl had stepped out of his car and let Hershel lead him up to the shelter of the porch that wrapped around the big white farmhouse, the two men shook hands, polite smiles on their faces.

"Mr. Dixon, I'm Hershel Greene, and this is my farm. Pleased to make your acquaintance," he spoke clearly, his voice older and wizened but respectable and with the same southern drawl as most everyone in Georgia possessed. Daryl noted that he seemed plenty sharp and spry for his age.

"Call me Daryl. Nice to meet ya, Hershel," Daryl said in his naturally gruff voice, letting his hand fall back to his side.

"Well, if you'd like to get down to business – Rick told me you're interested in purchasing some land. Could I offer you some sweet tea inside while we discuss it a little further?"

Daryl nodded. "Yes, sir, sounds good to me."

They walked across the porch together and inside of the house, the warmth immediately washing over Daryl's face as he took in the combined smells of cooking meat and something sweet being baked. The house was large, but cozy and homely, with a dozen different doors on all sides that Daryl could see as he was led into the sitting room. Hershel gestured to the couch and chairs and Daryl plopped himself down on a cushion of the couch, looking up in time to see a young, petite blonde girl setting down two large glasses of sweet tea onto the coffee table in front of him, ice cubes clinking inside the glass. Her eyes met his as she raised her head and he noticed she had the same blue eyes as Hershel, only larger and unblemished by the lines of age. She smiled politely and turned to leave, but Hershel reached out to her as he'd only just gotten settled in one of the chairs across from Daryl.

"Bethy, hon, don't be rude. Introduce yourself to our guest," the old man called to her, his tone still firm but kind.

The blonde stopped and turned back to face the older men, her smile now more shy than polite. She folded her hands together in front of her and nodded to Daryl. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Dixon. I'm Beth Greene."

Daryl blinked as if to clear the sudden fuzziness from his vision and smiled back at her, unsure if it looked completely genuine. "Call me Daryl. Nice to meet ya, Beth."

Her cheeks flushed with pink and she gave another polite nod before turning and hurrying from the room, blonde hair whipping behind her in its messy ponytail. Daryl watched after her, then realized he was doing so and quickly turned back to face Hershel. He was relieved to see the farmer was preoccupied with taking a long drink from his glass of tea. Daryl picked up his own and took a small sip before setting it back down, just in time for the older man to begin speaking again.

"That's my youngest daughter. She's back home for the summer from her first year at Georgia Southern University. Her older sister, Maggie, plans on takin' over the farm once I get too old, and my step-son, Shawn, may just end up doin' the same at his rate, but Beth just ain't the type to live here forever," Hershel explained, glancing at the door as if expecting her to return any moment. "Ever since her mama passed away, seems like she'd rather be just about anywhere but here. Can't say I blame her. This place sure hasn't been the same since."

Daryl took all this in and nodded politely, completely unsure of what to say. As much as he'd improved in social skills and small talk throughout his career, situations like this still made him feel uncomfortable and unsure of himself. Not to mention, he had to wonder why this old man would think he'd care about any of this. He came to talk about buying land, not his children's aspirations.

"Well, uh.. I'm sorry fer your loss," he muttered awkwardly. "What, uh – was it?"

Once it had come out, he wasn't sure it was even acceptable to have said. Luckily, the old man didn't seem to mind, and even gave a small, sad smile. "Cancer. Unbelievably aggressive, and too damn quiet. Snuck up on us before we could even catch it… Took her in the night, just about a year and a half ago. But not before it made her suffer, and us with it."

Daryl nodded, lowering his eyes and frowning. That all sounded bad, but he honestly couldn't relate, no matter how hard he tried. "Sorry to hear that."

Hershel let out a breath like he'd just told a long story that ended with his defeat. "Ah well, it's all God's plan, I suppose… Now what I'm gettin' at here, Daryl, is that I don't just sell land to anyone. Money's been a little tight since the medical bills and the funeral costs, and I got two kids in college and a farm to maintain. Now I've always been a God-fearing family man, and that's what's made my businesses so successful in my lifetime – I treat everyone like family, and I expect the same kinda trust. I told Rick about my situation because he's a man I trust, a good man, and I believe he's got a good sense about people. So I'd like to think I can trust you, and we can become somethin' like family."

Daryl eyed the old man suspiciously but tried to hide his uncertainty. He just wanted to buy some land…?

Hershel smiled and relaxed a bit, meeting Daryl's studious gaze. "Now I know, it's just a few acres, and once it's yours, you do what you please with it. All I ask is for respect and honesty, and I ask that you take care of this land, seein' as it's all I've got and I've worked awful hard for all of it… I don't mean any offense, but I've heard all about your brother, Merle, and the kind of mishaps he was dealing in that got him into prison."

Daryl had to consciously remind himself not to retaliate that statement. This wasn't the first time this had come up and it surely wouldn't be the last, but even after years of work, he still had to fight just a little to hold in his temper and the instinct to immediately get defensive. He inhaled sharply through his nose and steadied his voice, explaining calmly, "With all due respect, Mr. Greene, Merle is my brother and he always will be, but he ain't me. I dunno what you think made me so successful to be where I'm at today, but it sure as hell had nothin' to do with Merle. Half the reason I'm here now and not locked up right next to him is because he got caught before I could, and it woke me up. He was the reason for mosta my bad decisions years ago, but now he's the reason for all my good ones. I ain't got nothin' to do with Merle or any of that shit that got him locked up."

He hadn't realized the profanity had slipped from his mouth until he saw Hershel noticeably cringe. He muttered a quiet "sorry," then awaited a reaction. The old man slowly nodded, seeming to mull over what he'd just heard.

"Well, Mr. Dixon – Daryl - I'm gonna take ya at your word 'cause I feel like I'd be a fool not to," he stated decisively, leaning forward and reaching his hand out across the coffee table. "How does five acres sound? To start off with. If ya feel like you'd like more later on, we can go ahead and arrange somethin'."

Daryl leaned forward and grasped Hershel's hand in a firm shake before releasing their grips and both men relaxing back into their seats. "I think that'll do just fine for quite a while. Now I know Rick told me a little about the property, but from what I understand, you have some nice wooded areas around the outskirts of the farm?"

Hershel nodded. "That's right. Most of my property is surrounded by the woods. It ain't quite so thick closer to the tree line, but it spreads out pretty far, particularly around the acres you're interested in."

"Perfect. I'm lookin' to do some tracking and huntin', and I'd like to make a little base on those acres and check out the woods around it, get myself back into the hobby. You wouldn't mind if I hunted the deer and whatnot in those parts, would ya?" Daryl explained.

"That sounds just fine to me," the older man agreed. "The deer are in no shortage this year. In fact, I've been havin' a couple of my people watching the tree line around my crops 'cause those doe seem to love my vegetables. It'd be nice to have a hunter around the area to thin 'em out."

Daryl nodded in understanding and added, "I plan on spendin' weekends out here for now. I'm in my office in Atlanta most of the week, or out makin' the rounds on my shops."

Hershel's blue eyes lit up with interest, as if he'd just remembered something. "Now that's another thing I wanted to ask ya. Rick told me you're pretty high up in your company, and as you know, my daughter, Beth, is on summer break from college. I could have her do chores around the farm like every summer, but I know this is an important time for her to be pickin' up on opportunities that could help her in school, and I know she's said she could use an internship. Plus, I don't think it's so good for her to be stuck around here all summer, what with her mama bein' gone and not much to keep her mind off things. Do you think you might be able to point us in the right direction of a little help?"

Daryl raised his eyebrows and processed his words for a moment. What would Daryl know about internships? His company made and repaired motorcycles, what could this little girl possibly be going to school for that any kind of internship he could offer would help her? Besides, wasn't she supposed to have found an internship _before_ summer started?

"Uh, I mean, I dunno about any sort of thing like that anywhere, but I suppose she could work at my office till school starts back up. I dunno that it'd be any help to her, though. I don't think she's goin' to school for anything related to _my_ company," he grumbled awkwardly.

Hershel smiled warmly and nodded. "She missed the deadlines for the remaining spots available in Atlanta, so she's pretty disappointed to be stuck here all summer. I know your company may not have a lot to offer her specifically, but I don't think it could hurt. Experience is experience, right?"

Daryl shrugged, slowly realizing that the old man was probably just trying to pawn his daughter off on him so he didn't have to watch her mope around the house all summer. _What harm could it do?_ he figured.

"Of course it won't go unpaid, Daryl. I think we can find ourselves a little agreement on the cost of the land and anything else you might find yourself needing use of," Hershel added, his smile still warm underneath his whitened beard. "And I know my Beth is a hard worker. You'll find her more than helpful, I'm sure of it."

Daryl finally returned his smile and nodded in agreement. "I'm sure I will."


	2. Day One

**Day One**

The rain had finally let up just enough to let the sun break through intermittent clouds and begin to dry the surfaces below. The smell of moisture still hung heavy in the air but the temperature was slowly rising as the day brightened up. Beth Greene was watching out the window as farmland and open fields turned into mobile homes and scattered businesses, finally turning into full suburbs as the entrance to Atlanta grew closer, welcoming her with a generic green sign that read **Atlanta City Limit**. She couldn't help but feel nervous, completely unsure of what this man Daryl Dixon and his company would be like. Her father had told her as much as he knew, but admittedly, he didn't know much.

The small blonde glanced to her left to look at her older half-brother, Shawn, who was driving in thoughtful silence. His brown hair was tousled and messy and he was wearing the clothes he worked around the farm in. He'd already been up for three hours when Beth needed him to take her into Atlanta for the first day of her internship. She hardly saw him at rest anymore, it seemed that he was keeping himself constantly busy, and they didn't talk quite as much as they used to. He still stepped in to play the "overprotective brother" part when it was needed, but those situations had come fewer and farther between since she'd been away at college leading her own life, and Beth felt like they'd both experienced a shocking crater when their mother passed away before that. For Beth, she knew it wasn't as much losing her mother as it was having to watch her suffer and battle a relentless disease for months before finally giving in. She thought Shawn must've felt the same since he'd done his best to avoid their mom when she was sick and bed-ridden. That was when he had begun to keep himself busy more around the farm, assuming many of the duties Hershel had been forced to neglect, although he'd done it at his own will and without being asked or expected to.

Beth sometimes wondered if he'd ever leave the farm, but then she reminded herself that some people didn't feel a need to _escape_ grief like she did.

Shawn had noticed her looking at him and he glanced over. "Ya nervous?"

She looked back out the window to watch businesses and pedestrians pass by, replying quietly, "A little."

The older boy shrugged, slowing the car to a halt at a stoplight. "You'll be fine. I've heard stuff like this is pretty much just fetchin' coffee and bein' some suit's bitch. 'Sides, your dad's sellin' him some land so he's a little more likely to go easy on ya."

Beth took this in but had already thought of a condition to argue that. "Yeah but I think Daddy asked him to as a favor, so maybe he'll try to just let me screw up enough that he can let me go and not have to go through with it."

Shawn smirked and shook his head. "I'm sure it ain't like that. He sounds like a good man. I guess Rick's the one who suggested him. Just don't overthink it."

"Woulda been nice to have a say in how I was gonna spend my summer, is all," Beth remarked bitterly.

If she were to be totally honest, though, she couldn't say that she would've turned it down had her father asked her before making the agreement with Daryl Dixon. While Shawn was able to run himself ragged and keep his mind clear, Beth preferred a different approach. Besides, the farm felt haunted anymore. The ghosts of her mother and what her family had been before that disease had sucked them all dry still roamed the halls of the house and shadows of the open land. It taunted her and saddened her, and she felt if she had to be stuck on the Greene family property for one more week with nothing but farm work to distract her, she may just go back to school early. But lately, she found it easier to blame most of her negative feelings on other people and other situations out of her own control.

"Listen, maybe Hershel's just tired of watching ya mope around the damn place all day," Shawn snapped back, clearly not in the mood to listen to what he knew to be excuses.

Beth scoffed, feeling her temper rise to the surface and becoming defensive. "Oh, then what do you call whatever it is you're doin' all day? It ain't being happy, that's for sure."

The older boy's brows furrowed together and he frowned but didn't take his eyes from the street ahead of him. "At least I keep myself busy, Beth. I don't go makin' everybody else feel bad for me. Didn't you make some friends or somethin' at college? Surely something would've cheered you up by now. People are just tired of your bullshit, ya know?"

His words were sharp with honesty and resentment and Beth pursed her lips in response. She kept her eyes locked on the view outside her window. This was certainly one thing she didn't miss about being home all the time – the way she and her brother would always end up arguing about one thing or another. She knew he was right this time, but it still sent a burning rage to the pit of her stomach. How dare he accuse her of moping around when he was the one who barely stopped to shower, let alone sleep for a full night? His misery was so evident, half the farm wouldn't even approach him nowadays for fear of getting snapped at in one of his crazy mood swings.

 _At least my bullshit doesn't make me act out on everyone else_ , she thought bitterly.

"You're right. I'm sorry," she muttered as if defeated. "You can let me out here, I think this is the office."

Shawn stopped the truck and pulled to the curb behind another vehicle but looked around in doubt. "Bethy, I don't think this is it. Look, the GPS says it's just a block that way –"

"I'll walk. Thank you for the ride," she snapped, her last remark forcibly polite.

Shawn signed but didn't argue, unlocking the doors for her. "Take the umbrella, it might start –"

"Yeah, thanks," she cut him off and snatched up her purse and the umbrella lying on the seat between them, opening the door and quickly stepping out onto the sidewalk.

Before she could turn around and shut the door behind her, Shawn's voice piped up, "Do you need me to pick you up after?"

"No, I've got a ride," Beth lied, then slammed the door shut and turned in the direction of her destination and began walking down the damp sidewalk. She pushed the worry of how she'd get home to the back of her mind. She needed to focus on getting through the day first.

The high heels she'd borrowed from Maggie probably didn't fit as well as they should have, but it was all she had until she could make the money and buy her own business-appropriate pair. She walked carefully on the pavement and glanced at her watch, relieved to see she still had plenty of time to make it. She crossed the street with caution and tried to focus on not tripping in the middle of the street due to the uneven surface beneath her ill-fitting heels. Soon after she'd stepped back onto the safety of the sidewalk, she spotted the sign that read the name of the business she was looking for, and her pace quickened. She was eyeing the glass front doors and the men and women in suits walking in and out of them when her foot caught in the crack of the sidewalk and she stumbled forward. Miraculously, she maintained her balance and straightened herself back up without falling down, but she quickly realized her feet were uneven. Glancing at her right foot, she saw that the heel of her shoe had popped off and resided a few inches away from the shoe itself. A jolt of fear struck her insides and she groaned aloud, bending to retrieve the broken heel.

She didn't have any other appropriate shoes. Was she really about to walk into this place with a broken shoe, limping around like Quasimodo? She suddenly remembered her emergency back-up plan that she'd stuffed into her purse during a bout of paranoia and sighed with relief as she stepped aside and found a bench to sit down on. As she slipped on a pair of simple, black flats to replace the high heels, she figured a whole pair of these had to be better than a broken pair of heels. Or at least they would have to be for today.

She stood and strode through the glass doors behind a few other people dressed for business. She stepped into the building to find a shiny lobby, the receptionist desk nestled into the far left corner. Beth headed straight for it, finding no line to wait in and approaching the counter with a nervous smile on her face. A heavyset, middle-aged woman with her dark hair pulled into a tight bun sat at a computer, a phone next to her. She looked up at Beth through her black-rimmed glasses and smiled politely.

"How may I help you today?"

"Uh, I'm here for my first day of my in-internship. With uh, Daryl Dixon," Beth stammered out. She was suddenly very self-conscious of her shoe predicament.

The receptionist's eyes suddenly lit up and she looked directly behind Beth, a real smile taking the place of her polite one. "Ah, Daryl!"

Beth was confused, but quickly confirmed, "Uh – yeah."

"Mornin', Olivia," a gruff voice came from directly behind Beth's left ear and she jumped, startled, and spun around to see the man who'd been sitting in her home just a week before. Clad in a tailor-fitted dark suit, crimson tie, and shiny dress shoes, he was holding a tray of coffees in one hand and a single cup out in offering to the receptionist in the other, a small smile on his face. Olivia stood from her chair and leaned across the desk to take the coffee just inches away from Beth's face.

The young blonde backed up a bit and looked up at Daryl Dixon, who had turned to her and was briefly looking her up and down with his eyes. He reached out his empty hand for her to shake. "I just got back from a coffee run. Good to see ya again."

Beth nodded and smiled, taking his hand in hers and shaking it. He looked much more pleasant and alert than when she'd seen him at the farm. "Oh, thank you. Um, I'm not late, am I?"

She didn't know if he'd just arrived or if he'd already been at work, but she was suddenly extremely self-conscious of everything about herself, from her informal shoes to her time management. Though she wouldn't like to admit it, this man intimidated her, and the last thing she'd want to do is aggravate him. She could only imagine what kind of temper he was hiding. The gruffness of his voice was enough to demand respect from just about anyone.

"Nah, not at all," he replied, glancing at the watch on his wrist. "A little early, actually. I got ya a coffee, if ya want."

He pulled a styrofoam cup from the tray in his hand and held it out to her. She smiled and took it, sipping it carefully. She cringed at the taste – she usually loaded her coffee up with creamer and sugar, and this was almost black. She didn't complain and took another small sip. Daryl motioned for her to follow him and she did so.

"Figure I can give ya a little tour on the way to my office," he said, nodding to a sharply dressed older man who was passing by. "Mornin', Gregory."

Beth noticed that the man named Gregory had only glanced at Daryl and given a small smile and nod of greeting, but when he'd spotted Beth, he did a double take, dragging his eyes judgmentally up and down her body. She wasn't certain, but it looked like he'd given a grimace and an overall look of disapproval as he walked on past them.

"Over there is the HR office, probably won't need to go there while you're here. And there's the break room, but not everybody uses it," Daryl was explaining as they walked through the shiny-floored hall, passing offices and conference rooms. Beth listened and looked as he pointed out people, occupations, and important offices, handing coffees to a few people when he greeted them. She noticed how his voice didn't come out as much more than a grunt when he wasn't directly speaking to someone. At moments, she had to strain her ears just slightly to make out his words, but the peaceful quiet of the office building as well as her years of experience in understanding even the most southern accents made it mostly easy.

After numerous turns and long halls lined with countless doors, they finally came to Daryl's office. His was a large, glossy, wooden door with a bold black nameplate in the upper center that read _Daryl Dixon_. A large window was next to the door, the blinds on the inside closed tightly. Daryl turned the knob of the door and swung it open, reaching inside to the wall and flipping on the light switch. The dark room came to life, silhouettes turning into a desk and a chair, as well as other chairs and a small sofa around a coffee table. He gestured for her to enter first and she did so, stepping lightly into the foreign office and waiting for him to join her. He stepped inside and tossed the now-empty tray from the coffees into a small trash bin next to the door, all the coffees having been distributed while he held his own in his hand.

Beth stood awkwardly a few feet in front of the door as she watched Daryl swing it shut and stride to his desk, his body seeming to relax now that he was in his own space behind a door. He placed his coffee on his desk and shuffled around some papers, picking up a few singular sheets and quickly glancing over them before setting them into separate piles. He shrugged the suit jacket off his shoulders and down his arms, hanging it in a coat rack in the far corner. Beth looked around, examining the large office. The walls were cerulean blue and decorated with large, framed photos of motorcycles, some of them paintings, and what looked to be large print-outs of manual descriptions that displayed motorcycle parts and their purposes. The floor was carpeted in deep blue, a soft contrast to the glossy, tan floors that ran throughout the rest of the office building. Daryl's desk was large and black, sitting facing the door in front of a wide window that looked out into the street, though its blinds were covering most of the scenery. His desk was a bit cluttered, stacks of papers and folders covering the surface around where the computer and keyboard sat, the phone at the other end of the desk next to a tray designated for mail. Sitting in the corner directly left of the door was a small leather love-seat and two matching lounge chairs, a black coffee table sitting in the middle of them, its surface bare and shiny. In the opposite corner, directly to the right of the door, was a smaller desk and chair – Beth noticed that they nearly looked like smaller versions of Daryl's own just a few feet away. When she looked back to the older man, she quickly realized that he was no longer distracted, but instead was standing in silence with his hands in his pockets, looking somewhat awkward as he quickly averted his gaze away from her. She wondered if he'd been watching her while she took in the room, completely unaware. He held out his hand.

"Want me to take your sweater?" He asked politely.

She nodded and slipped off the black cardigan she was wearing, handing it to him and thanking him as he took it to hang on the coat rack next to his.

"So uh, I guess you don't need me to get your coffee today," she remarked lightly, remembering what Shawn had told her and completely unsure of what else to say.

He didn't smile or even smirk as she'd hoped he would. Instead, he shrugged and glanced around the office. "Well uh, I can't lie to ya, I've never had an intern before so I really got no idea what you're s'posed to be doin'… What're ya good at?"

Beth's eyebrows rose in surprise and she felt her cheeks flush. 'What was she good at?' She couldn't recall being asked that at any point in the last year. What _was_ she good at?

"Well, um… Do you have a secretary? I'm real good at organizing, and I have neat handwriting. I'm good at proof-readin', too. I can answer your phone calls, if you need," her voice shrank as she went on, becoming less and less sure of herself. Maybe this _was_ a mistake after all. Maybe he'd just offered this internship as an obligation to her father and now she was going to be in his way all summer.

Daryl seemed to ponder this for a moment. "Can't say I've ever had a secretary. Well, there's Olivia, but she's for the whole office…" He glanced to the smaller desk that sat in the corner, looking back to Beth. "I set that desk up for ya this weekend. Didn't have much else use for the extra room and I figured ya might want your own space – I know I like havin' mine. So uh, how 'bout ya help me with my paperwork till we figure this whole thing out? If there's one thing I hate doin', it's the paperwork."

Beth looked to his desk and all the papers and folders scattered atop it and smirked, giving him an amused gaze. "Yeah, I kinda noticed."

A half-smile flickered across his face, then he was walking to his desk and gathering all the papers and folders in his hands, trying to straighten them into a neat pile. Beth took her cue and walked to the smaller desk, setting her purse and umbrella down on the floor next to the chair and sitting down, scooting in to the desk and getting comfortable. Daryl brought the papers over and set them on the surface, then began sorting them into separate piles and explaining to her what he needed done with each one. When he walked away, she picked a pen from the cupful on the desk and prepared to start, but was interrupted when he came back with more papers in hand and set them directly in front of her. She glanced over them quizzically.

"Tax forms? Fer what?" she asked, looking up to meet his dark blue eyes.

"Fer you, so I can pay ya," he stated simply.

Beth's mouth formed a small _o_ in surprise. "Yer payin' me? You don't have to. It's just an internship, I figured –"

Daryl rose a hand and stopped her. "Nah, I don't believe in workin' without pay. Experience might help ya, but money's a little more real. 'Sides, I know your family's a little hard up lately, and you bein' in school an' all –"

He stopped when he noticed the uncomfortable look on her face. She felt the heat rushing to her cheeks. Had her father really told Daryl they were tight on money? She didn't want this to end up being any more of a charity case than it already was.

"It's really not like that," she found herself quickly coming to the defense. "I don't need your money, my family is fine. I dunno what my dad told you but –"

Daryl looked confused but then a look of understanding settled across his features. He shook his head and interrupted her, "Beth, it's alright, I don't mean it like that. I'm not takin' pity on ya or something. I just don't believe in that _unpaid internship_ shit that everybody does. That's just about slavery is what that is. If you won't accept a check for the time ya put in here, then I guess we can forget about the whole thing."

The young blonde couldn't help but smile just for a moment. She suddenly felt apologetic for getting defensive so quickly. "I'm sorry, I just… I wanted to earn this, not just have it all handed to me. I don't want you to think I'm… struggling. Or somethin'."

She looked down at the papers in front of her, embarrassed, her cheeks hot again. She feared she wasn't making the best first impression on the man she'd be spending most of her summer with. To her surprise, she heard a low chuckle come from his throat. She looked at him questioningly.

"Do I really seem rich to you or somethin'? Like I don't get it?" He asked.

Beth shrugged. "Well…" For a second, she tried to imagine this well-dressed and groomed man in grungy clothes, or with a scraggly beard. She didn't really know anything about him. Her gaze flicked to just over his shoulder, where a framed photo hung on the wall behind his desk. Squinting slightly, she could make out three men in front of a motorcycle, all in riding gear. It looked like Daryl was in the middle, clad in leather with his chin-length hair windblown and messy, his face much less shaven than it was now. It was a big difference to how he appeared before her at this moment, but still – those bikes and the hobby itself were no small expense.

Daryl smirked at her uncertainty. "Well I didn't grow up rich. And I ain't rich now. I worked and earned everything I got. So don't worry – I ain't gonna hand ya shit."

Beth didn't realize how much her muscles had tensed until he'd said this and she relaxed into her seat in relief. She gave him an appreciative smile and leaned down to fill out the paperwork. Daryl walked away and sat down behind his desk to begin working on his computer, clicking and typing away with a look of concentration.

A few minutes passed in peaceful silence, the only sound in the room coming from the clicks of Daryl's keyboard and the scratching of Beth's pen on paper. They both jumped, startled from their concentration, when the phone on his desk rang. He picked it up and answered.

"This is Daryl," he said into the handset. Beth watched curiously as he listened to the other end, his face displaying no emotion. "Uh-huh… Yeah, sounds good… Alright, let me know when you're ready."

He hung up the phone and resumed his work on the computer without a glance in her direction, so she looked back down to the tax forms and resumed filling them out. It only took her a couple more minutes and she was done, scrawling one last signature at the bottom of the form: _Beth Greene_. She stood and stacked the forms neatly back together, walking them to Daryl's desk and setting them in the corner so as not to interrupt him. He looked up and saw what she was doing, then nodded in acknowledgement.

"Thank ya," he grunted, his eyes looking back over his computer screen.

"Yeah, of course," she replied. As she turned to walk back to her desk, he spoke up again.

"My boss, Gregory, invited me for lunch with a couple other coworkers. Would ya like to join?"

She couldn't help but be surprised, turning and smiling at him. "Yeah, that sounds great."

He nodded and went back to work, leaving her to do the same at her own seat. She didn't realize she was still smiling until she'd sat down again.

If the first few hours of this internship proved anything, it was that the work did indeed keep her mind busy, as well as her hands. She occupied herself with the piles of paperwork, reading and taking notes in an attempt to lighten the load for Daryl. She even took it upon herself to carefully translate his sloppy, minuscule writing into more legible, neat notes, organizing and recording important bits as she went. She had to admit her own handwriting was much neater and more legible than the older man's, and hoped it would prove useful to him since she'd had to squint throughout most of his written notes. She hadn't even realized how much time passed until she felt the aching in her writing hand and was draining the last drops of her cool coffee into her mouth before looking up at the clock on the wall. Her stomach made a low rumbling noise and she suddenly remembered she hadn't eaten breakfast, and her brain felt drained. This work proved to be just as tiring as farm work, only in a different way. She either needed a nap or a re-energizing lunch to keep her mind and body going the rest of the day.

She finished the last few lines of a paper she was on and then placed it in its appropriate pile, looking over the work she'd done. Almost all of his paperwork was now neatly stacked and organized, and she only had a few files left. She was wondering what time they took lunch when she noticed the keyboard clicks had stopped and looked up to see Daryl standing and gathering his things.

"Think it's 'bout time we head out. You hungry?" He asked, walking out from behind his desk towards the coat rack to get his suit jacket and slip it on.

"Starving," she answered, standing and stretching before picking up her purse, choosing to leave the umbrella where it was for now.

He met her at the door and handed her the black cardigan, opening the door and turning off the light while she slipped it on. She left the office first with him close behind, shutting the door to leave the room looking the way it had just hours before. They walked together in silence through the long halls, heading for the entrance. Beth noticed most of the offices were empty, and when they passed the break room, it looked full of at least a dozen people dressed in business attire having lunch and conversing. As they passed Olivia's desk on the way to the front doors, Daryl gave a wave and a passing "be back in an hour," leading Beth outside. The sun was hidden behind clouds again and the sky threatened more rain, making her regret leaving the umbrella behind. They turned left down the sidewalk and followed it to a nearby parking lot designated for employees of the office building. The lot was full of very nice, very expensive cars and trucks, and several shiny motorcycles, most with their own awning to protect them from weather. They walked across the lot to an almost brand new, all-black Cadillac parked in a spot designated with a sign that read: _Reserved For Daryl Dixon_. Daryl clicked a button on his key fob and the doors unlocked with a _click_. They got into the car and fastened their seat belts. As he started the car, Beth briefly examined the flawless black leather interior. A small air freshener in the shape of his company's logo hung from the rear view window, as well as a keychain shaped like a tiny crossbow, and the inside of the car smelled like pine trees with a hint of stale cigarettes.

"Wow, nice car," she remarked as they left the parking lot and began driving down the busy street.

"Thanks. Just got it last year. Only really drive it when the weather's bad," Daryl said.

"What do you normally drive?" Beth asked curiously, quickly realizing what the answer probably was.

"A bike. I got a couple. But I 'spose this is more _formal_ ," he remarked with a bitter tone to the last word. She could tell he was out of his element among the professional world. He had the aura of a rough man, someone made to be on their own and flourish with very little because they liked things to be kept simple. She'd met quite a few men like him through her dad – they were the types he trusted most, usually because they had nothing to hide and were unapologetic about how they presented themselves to the world, and she'd observed that since before she could remember.

They continued down the street in silence, traveling only a short distance before they were pulling into a parking spot outside of a small restaurant. The pair got out of the car and entered the building to find a bar and grill setting, a separated part to their right dimly lit and smoky, holding a handful of bar patrons, while the part they stood in had booths and tables to their left lit by open windows and filled with lunch crowds of business people and small families. A hostess seated them with the men Daryl recognized as his boss and two coworkers in a large, wrap-around booth. He slid in on the end of the booth next to a twenty-something blond man Beth hadn't met yet, and she slid in right after Daryl once he'd made room for her. Gregory sat across from them next to another dark-haired older man she didn't recognize. A waitress quickly came over and placed menus before them and took drink orders – Daryl ordered a beer and Beth ordered a lemonade – then hurried off to fetch them. Gregory had a nearly empty drink in front of him that looked like whiskey and his two colleagues had beers on the table before them.

"Nice of you to join us, Daryl," Gregory greeted him, the two coworkers nodding towards him as well. Somehow he didn't sound exactly friendly.

"Sorry, didn't realize what time it was. Uh, this is Beth, she's my new intern," Daryl gestured to her then pointed to the men individually. "Beth, this is my boss, Gregory, and this is Jay – a corporate lawyer – and Nick – a franchise executive."

Beth raised a hand in a feeble greeting. "Nice to meet you all."

Gregory glanced at Beth with disapproval and turned his attention to Daryl just as the waitress reappeared with their drinks. "Did you finish that report for HR that I asked you about this morning?" The waitress set the drinks on the table surface and disappeared again.

Daryl was looking over the menu in front of him and taking a sip of his beer when he looked up and nodded. "Yep, I'll get it to ya as soon as I get back to the office. Did you –"

He was interrupted very casually by the stern, older man fixing his eyes on Beth and speaking very plainly, "And why is this little tart walking around my building in ballet shoes? I don't think I need to speak to you about the professional dress code again, do I?"

Beth's face became very hot and she sat in silence, too shocked to think of an answer, even though he wasn't talking directly to her. She looked beside her to Daryl, who was glaring at Gregory with pursed lips.

"Didn't even notice, to be totally honest. Sorry 'bout that. I'll have her change when we get back," he said, his voice low and almost dangerous. It was obvious he was holding his tongue.

Gregory sneered and met Daryl's intent stare. "I don't remember telling you to hire an intern."

"You didn't. I had a small surplus, I made an agreement with her dad. It's just for the summer," he said, but no hint of apology was in his voice.

Beth suddenly felt very awkward as she tried to keep her eyes on the menu before her. If she'd known what Gregory was like, she probably wouldn't have agreed to join this lunch. She glanced up to see the other two men, Jay and Nick, watching the exchange with amusement. She felt a small burst of anger at their audacity. Before either of the men could say anything else, the waitress reappeared with pad and pen in hand, ready to take orders. Beth hadn't even looked at the menu yet, so she quickly chose a simple sandwich from a list while Daryl requested a rare steak with potatoes, and when the waitress turned to her expectantly, she feebly asked for the sandwich then handed her menu over and sat silently as the waitress bustled off and left the men to their conversation. She had the sudden desire to be anyone else, anywhere else but here right now.

"We already ate. I expected you to be here sooner, like the time I told you on the phone," Gregory remarked, lifting his glass to his lips and draining the last of the whiskey down his throat.

Daryl shrugged. "Lost track of time. I was a little behind from the weekend. Thought you'd call when you were ready."

"Then maybe you should be coming in on weekends so you're not behind," Gregory said sternly, lowering his voice. "Let's not forget how quickly I can send you right back to working in one of those shitty little shops. I suppose you might like that, though, seeing as you like to work dirty."

Daryl didn't respond, averting his eyes downward and sipping his beer in silence. Beth could see his temper boiling right beneath the surface. She couldn't help but be impressed by his ability to hold his tongue. He didn't seem like the kind of man who would be perfectly fine with anyone talking to him like that, even if it was his boss.

He finally met Gregory's sour gaze again and said dryly, "That may be true, but let's look at the numbers since I've been here. Couldn't seem to find anyone in the last decade who could manage like I do."

Beth almost gasped but held it in, her breath caught in her throat as she looked to Gregory to see his reaction. The older man stared at Daryl with petulance.

"That may be so, but I'm still the boss here, and you're still the employee. I can find another one like you in a matter of time, so don't go thinking you're indispensable," he said, then motioned for Jay and Nick to finish their beers quickly. "Last one to arrive picks up the bill. Don't make it a long lunch, you don't want to get more behind than you already are. I'll see you back at the office."

With that, he scooted out of the booth and stood, the two other men following after they'd set their empty beer bottles on the table to be collected. Gregory turned back and looked down at Beth, putting on one of the most forced and fake smiles she'd ever seen.

"And nice to meet you, Betty," he said, his words caked with plastic politeness.

Beth nodded awkwardly and gave a small smile. "You, too, sir." She didn't bother correcting him, fearing his reaction if she had actually dared. His face was aged less with smile lines and more with anger lines, and was all around unpleasant to look at, so she was glad when he finally turned away from her.

He walked away and before the other two men joined him, the dark-haired one named Jay who Beth remembered was a corporate lawyer turned back to Daryl. "By the way, Andrea is gonna be working with me on a case in a couple weeks. We'll be spending a lot of time at the office, just a heads up."

Beth looked over at Daryl to see a look of surprise cross his features, but he only nodded. "Cool, thanks. See ya guys later."

They waved and went on their way, leaving Beth and Daryl sitting alone in the booth.

A moment of awkward silence passed before Daryl spoke up. "Sorry about that. He's kind of an asshole. But he's the boss so I can't really tell him what I'd like to."

Beth shrugged, playing it off like it was nothing. "That's okay, I understand. I'm really sorry about my shoes, I borrowed my sister's heels but one of 'em broke on my way in to the office and all I had –"

He raised a hand to halt her rushed apology. "Don't be sorry, it ain't yer fault. If you were with anybody else but me, he never woulda said a damn word. Guy really likes to ride my ass 'bout everything he can find. I'll give ya money to go get yourself some _appropriate_ shoes."

She smiled at the sarcastic tilt to his last words, but still felt bad for being another reason to get him in trouble. "You don't gotta do that, I can pay for 'em. You've done enough for me already."

He shook his head and gave her a look like _really?_ "It's a business cost. Lemme take care of it."

"Well, I mean, if your boss doesn't like it, I can figure something else out for the summer. I really don't wanna get you in trouble for hiring me," she insisted, feeling terribly guilty for the whole interaction with Gregory.

He shook his head. "It ain't like that. Don't give it another thought. 'Sides, I gave your dad my word, and I don't go back on that."

Before she could argue anymore, their waitress appeared beside the booth with plated food in her hands. She set the meals down in front of them and cleared off the empty glass and bottles left by the other men while Daryl requested another beer. Within seconds, the pair were silent as they gratefully dug into their food. Daring a sly glance, Beth didn't think she'd ever seen a man dressed so professionally eat like such a savage. Daryl was cutting and eating the steak like he hadn't eaten in days, and the potatoes and vegetables beside it were gone within just a few bites. He moved like he had to consciously remind himself to use silverware and not his bare hands. She carefully nibbled on her own BLT sandwich, but found her appetite had dwindled considerably since they'd left the office.

It didn't take long for him to finish his meal. The waitress had brought his second beer as requested, and he slid the empty plate away from him and sipped from the bottle in contentment. Beth had gotten halfway through her sandwich by now, still nibbling intermittently.

"So," she spoke up, attempting a casual conversation. "How long you been doing this job?"

He shrugged, sitting back to relax into the booth and looking at her, beer in hand. "Couple years. Started out workin' in shops, worked my way up to management, then a few years later they offered me a cushy office job so I took it. Now I run a couple dozen shops and take responsibility for all the people in 'em."

Beth raised her eyebrows, impressed. She hadn't realized how important he actually was, although she'd had somewhat of an idea considering the general appearance of his occupation. "Wow, you really did work your way up."

He nodded. "The money's good but if Gregory thinks I'm comin' in to work weekends, he's out of his damn mind. I put in more than enough time all week. Barely ever see my own home."

"And what about Andrea? Is that another boss that's coming in?" She asked, having been curious since Jay had mentioned her before he left. She wanted to be prepared in case she needed to impress – and not anger – another higher-up.

Daryl shook his head. "'Nother lawyer. She usually handles civil rights cases but she helps us out with cases from time to time. I guess she's gonna be around for a little while again to help with a lawsuit we got."

He interrupted their conversation to motion to the passing waitress that he was ready for the check, then continued, "She can be a little feisty, so I'm hopin' they won't need much use of me on that one."

Beth took all this in and added it to her mental 'portrait of Daryl Dixon.' She watched the waitress lay the check down on the table and Daryl picked it up to examine. "I got some money, how much was my –"

He raised a hand and stopped her once again as she was reaching into her bag for her wallet. "Don't worry 'bout it. I invited ya, it's on me."

"Um, thank you," she said, at a loss for anything else to say. The longer she spent with this man, and the more he told her, it became evident that he liked helping people out – or at least he liked helping her and her father. She wondered if it'd ever stop feeling like he was just doing her favor after favor. She decided she'd just have to pay him back by exceeding his expectations - and of course _actually_ paying him back before the summer ended.

When they left the restaurant, it had begun drizzling rain again and the sun was hidden behind an endless wall of dark clouds. Daryl drove the Cadillac through the wet streets of Atlanta with caution and ease, his window cracked just slightly to allow for him to smoke a cigarette. The windshield wipers were on their lowest setting, clearing the glass in front of the pair every few silent seconds. He didn't seem to notice or mind the lack of sound from his radio.

They had driven a couple of blocks in this silence, and Beth thought it felt awkward. She watched the view outside her window as it passed slowly, raindrops sliding down the glass. She noticed a motorcycle repair shop pass by but quickly realized it wasn't one belonging to Daryl's company. "So you used to work in shops? Like fixin' bikes?"

Daryl seemed a bit startled at her voice as if he'd forgotten she was there. He glanced at her then went back to watching the road. "Yeah, 'bout fifteen years ago or so. I know them bikes inside an' out. Did that for a while, ended up buildin' a couple bikes, too. Ah… 'bout ten years, I guess. But I been messin' with 'em since I was a kid so that helped. Started managing my shop and a couple others for about three years then they offered me this."

Beth listened and tried to imagine Daryl Dixon fifteen years ago. Where were his family? She secretly wondered if he'd lost both parents already. He had yet to mention any relatives, and all the pictures she'd observed in his office were of friends and colleagues. How old was he anyway? It seemed rude to ask, but if she had to guess, she'd say early forties. That left a big gap from before he'd even begun his career.

"Did you go to college?" She blurted. When it came out, she hoped it didn't sound nosey. This was part of her latest habit of focusing her worry on her school and future, and comparing her own career timeline to successful people she met.

Daryl snorted as if the question were a joke. "Nah, I barely graduated high school."

"Then what'd you do before you started in the shops?" She followed.

Daryl took a long drag from the cigarette between his fingers and exhaled. "Ran around findin' trouble with my brother."

It was a plain and simple statement, and told Beth that it was all he wanted to divulge about that time. She watched him from the corner of her eye. "Oh."

It rained heavily, thunder and lightning included, all the rest of the afternoon. The lights in the office building flickered threateningly on more than one occasion, and when the work day finally approached its end, Beth was more than thankful. However, it suddenly occurred to her that she hadn't arranged a ride home. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through the contacts, but everyone with vehicles or who lived in the proximity were not in town, or she hadn't spoken to them in ages. Her only other option would be swallowing her pride and calling Shawn.

 _But I wouldn't want to bother him with anymore of my bullshit,_ she thought resentfully.

She shoved her phone back inside her bag and sulked, damning herself for her poor planning and dependence. Would her dad drive all that way to pick her up? She doubted it.

While Daryl collected his things from around the office and prepared to leave for the day, Beth was slowly gathering her things and waiting by the door, lost in thought about how far the public bus would take her and how much a taxi may cost all the way out to her house. When she snapped back to attention, she realized Daryl was watching her quizzically.

"You alright? Ya got a ride home?" he asked.

"Oh, ya know, my brother, Shawn, was actually supposed to pick me up, but he texted and said somethin' came up, so I was just thinking of… who I could call," Beth lied, eyes shying away from his and to the floor. She didn't want to admit she was too proud to call her brother.

He looked relieved and said, "Oh, looked like you were about to tell me you don't wanna come back tomorrow. I'll give ya a ride. How 'bout we stop and grab a pair of shoes to shut Gregory up, too?"

She was somehow extremely surprised at his generous offer, but accepted gratefully. "Wow, that'd be really nice of you. I mean, if you really don't mind drivin' all that way. I appreciate it."

Daryl shrugged and opened the door for them to leave. "It's nothin'. Gotta get ya there one way or another. And I ain't got plans."

They left the office and drove for a few blocks in the direction of a shoe store Daryl knew of when his cell phone rang. It was a business call, and after he'd hung up and they had stopped in front of the shoe store, he informed her that he needed to go check on one of his shops and would return within minutes to pick her back up. He handed her a credit card imprinted with his name and told her to get whatever she felt she needed. She felt awkward but agreed, and soon found herself inside the rather upscale store, walls lined with shoe displays and boxes, rows of racks between her and the check-out desk.

It didn't take her long to find a pair of business appropriate high heels that fit her perfectly and didn't feel like she'd immediately develop blisters. The store's selection was wide and beautiful, and of course she noticed, very pricey. She had originally planned on stopping by a thrift store before work the next morning to buy a pair with some of her savings. She turned back and forth, admiring her lower legs and feet in the mirror in front of her. They were a simple black pair, but they accentuated her legs in a way she didn't think she'd ever seen them.

"Wow, looks… uh – looks great," a gruff voice came from just behind her and she turned in surprise. Daryl stood watching her from the end of the shoe rack a couple of feet away, and if Beth didn't know any better, she would've said he _actually_ looked a little… impressed?

She smiled back and took the shoes off, returning them to their box and slipping her flats back on. "You surprised me, that was quick. Sorry I'm takin' so long – "

"Nah, they figured it out without me so I turned right around," he stopped her. "That the pair you want? Did ya wanna pick out two, just in case ya break another heel?"

He said the last bit with a teasing smirk and Beth warmed at the gesture. "Yeah, you're probably right. I'd better prepare for the worst."

They shared a small chuckle and he walked around the racks with her to find another pair she liked, occasionally giving his opinion when she asked him what he thought. Admittedly, he didn't have much of an opinion either way, seeing as most of the shoes looked basically the same to him, so he liked nearly everything. Beth noticed this and had expected nothing less, but still took the opportunity to tease him in return.

She picked up a rather gawdy pair of high heels – or rather pumps – that were somehow the ugliest shade of pink she'd ever seen. They were covered in fake jewels and glitter. She held them out in front of Daryl and asked with a joking smile, "Okay, how about these? _So_ cute, right?"

Daryl chuckled and shook his head. "I think those are more for the club, ain't they? You got a couple dresses that would be perfect with those, huh?"

Beth gave him a playful push on the arm and replaced the shoes carefully. It only took her about ten more minutes to find a suitable second pair, and they made their way to the register to pay. She handed the credit card over to the employee and made a mental note of how much the total had come out to be – much more than what she'd normally spend on shoes. Daryl took the card back after the transaction and they left the store with a bag holding two boxes. They got into the car and began the long, wet drive to the Greene Family Farm.

It was another silent ride through the city and the eventual countryside. The storm didn't seem to be letting up anytime soon, and the sky only foretold endless clouds. Beth was daydreaming about sitting in her bed with hot tea and her journal when Daryl spoke up suddenly, snapping her back to reality.

"The land I'm buyin' from your dad is just a few miles up past yer house. Care if I have a quick look?" He said, turning onto the muddy road that led to the long driveway of her home.

"Of course. I'd like to see which part you're gettin', too," she agreed, her curiosity peaked.

She thought she saw him smile to himself as he sped up just slightly down the road, passing her driveway and the white mass that was her house. They followed the road for a few more miles and made a right turn, then Daryl slowed as they passed an open area on their left surrounded by woods, a small cabin visible in the distance just before the tree line. He pointed to the area, but Beth already had an idea of where it was when her father had told her about it. She knew the expanse of her family's land almost perfectly, and was familiar with that cabin.

"Oh yeah, I used to play in that cabin with Maggie when we were little," she reminisced aloud. "Well, until Shawn and his friends would find us and attack us with squirt guns. I don't think I've been over here in years, though."

Daryl smirked at her shared memory and turned the car around to head back towards the farmhouse. "Yeah, I'm gonna fix it up, make it my place for the weekends. Gonna do some huntin' in those wood, see what I can track down."

Beth perked up. "You hunt? Like with guns?"

"I prefer a crossbow, even a regular bow, but yeah sometimes with guns. I think yer dad would prefer I kept it quiet," he answered.

"Oh, wow," she marveled. Now the keychain in his rear view mirror made sense. She didn't think she'd ever seen anyone use a crossbow in person. Her dad never even let her learn how to shoot a gun, let alone join him and the boys on hunting trips. He said it wasn't 'girl's fun.' But Beth had always been secretly curious about knowing how to shoot and hunt. She lived on a farm, for goodness' sake. "Do you think you could teach me sometime? I mean, if you ever want somebody to go huntin' with…"

Daryl furrowed his brow but kept on the road ahead. "Ain't yer dad taken ya hunting?"

She shook her head. "Never. Didn't want me shooting guns either, or anything that might be a weapon. I think Maggie went a few times with her friends, though…"

"Sure, I'll teach ya. It's a hell of a more important skill to have than filin' papers, that's for sure," he said without hesitation. Beth was a little surprised, but pleased nonetheless. "'Course, I gotta get it ready first. Make it livable and get some traps set up. Rain should be done by then."

She nodded in agreement. "Sounds fun. And maybe I can end up teachin' _you_ something before the summer's over."

Daryl let out a sarcastic laugh. "Oh yeah? What am I gonna learn from a little girl like you?"

Beth furrowed her brows and gave him a menacing look. "I ain't a little girl, and I think you'd be surprised what you could learn from me, _Dixon_."

He smirked but said nothing else, giving his full attention to the road once more.

They pulled into the long driveway to the large, white house, slowing as they approached until the car came to a complete stop. Beth gathered her umbrella and all her bags and got ready to step out into the pouring rain. She turned and looked into Daryl's dark blue eyes, noticing the bags beneath them for the first time. She smiled genuinely.

"Thank you, for everything today," she said, lifting the bag holding her new shoes in emphasis. "I really appreciate it. Um, should I bring coffee when I come in tomorrow?"

He smiled back and it sent an odd sensation through her stomach. "Sure, that'd be nice. There's a coffee shop just around the corner from the office I usually go to. See ya at eight."

She nodded and bid him goodnight, then rushed to the front door of the house and the warm, dry safety of the inside. She drifted through the entrance and into the sitting room, gliding over to a window at the far wall and peaking out the curtains to watch the dark Cadillac driving down the driveway away from the house, taillights glowing red through the falling rain. The blonde smiled to herself.

That night, she dreamt of motorcycles and crossbows, accompanied by brief flashes of herself walking through that old, empty cabin, dust rising from the floor with her every step. She could only see woods and darkness shortly before she woke up, but she had an intense feeling in her chest like she was being chased, and all she knew was that she was running for her life, breathless and sweaty. She awoke with a start, gasping for breath, just as the sun was rising over the horizon outside her bedroom window.

 **to be continued…**


	3. Andrea

**Andrea**

If he were being honest, Daryl fully expected Beth to be in his way all summer. He imagined something like a bored teenager underfoot all day, constantly questioning him and expecting praise for small tasks. He was happy to find that the whole experience was turning out to be the total opposite. At first, he found himself nervous and feeling oddly scrutinized by this small, southern blonde. He wasn't sure he'd even be able to find enough work to keep her busy. But as the days continued, she proved to be a helpful companion of sorts.

He caught himself smiling inwardly when she appeared like clockwork every morning with his coffee just the way he liked it: black with one sugar. She always seemed to have something different in a clear plastic cup from the nearby coffee shop – some days it was a pink concoction loaded with whipped cream and sprinkles, others it was a chocolatey mocha swirl. He was actually beginning to mentally note each drink she showed up with because he was almost certain she had to have tried everything on their menu by now.

He also noticed how much easier his paperwork had become, no thanks to any new habits he'd formed. In fact, he was beginning to think he shouldn't get so used to having her around because he'd gotten even lazier with filing and sorting, knowing that all his notes and paperwork would end up neatly rewritten, stacked, and organized in perfect order on his desk by the end of the day. Sometimes he even found them sorted with color-coded tabs. He didn't vocalize it, but the pastel colors always seemed to brighten his mood a bit. And the way she wrote with elegant, swirly letters wasn't so bad to look at either.

And for the first time since he'd begun his office job, Daryl found himself looking forward to lunch time every day. Normally he'd bring a sandwich or order something to his office so he could continue working while he ate, but now he had someone he genuinely enjoyed eating with. The pair of them had tried nearly every restaurant and diner within a six block radius. Only a few of the establishments had proven a bad experience, but they still seemed to make the best of their hour of freedom in the middle of the work day. They had settled for food trucks a couple of times, and the other times, they gave up on lunch altogether and chose instead to go to a nearby bar and order beers until it was time to return to the office. Luckily for Beth, he knew the bars that wouldn't ID her, and she seemed to revel in the "bad girl" behavior. He noticed she could never finish a whole beer, though. Yet somehow it was kind of charming. He'd observed how smiley she had been on the drive back those times; the blue in her eyes seemed to sparkle even more after a few sips of beer.

Beth was, however, very inquisitive, and to his dismay, she chose to take interest in getting to know him on a personal level for some reason. He was perfectly fine with working together in silence and having their pleasant lunches – sharing a few jokes, reminiscing on good memories or complaining together. But he found it getting more difficult to give her simple answers and prevent any further questions. He could tell she felt more comfortable around him every day, and he appreciated her friendliness and attempts at being genuine, but that just wasn't him. He opened up to a few people, but they were always few and far between, and this innocent, college-aged, farm girl wasn't any type to hear his bullshit and give it an understanding nod. She didn't need to hear about things like that anyway. Whenever he met people who knew nothing of his past and didn't have to, they tended to respect him a lot more, and he wanted to keep it that way. Not to mention, he didn't want any more negative stories reaching Hershel's ears and threatening their deal. He'd already spent the last three weekends on his small piece of land and was growing quite attached to it. He had spent hours cleaning up the cabin, making repairs, and learning the surrounding land. He'd even taken all his hunting gear to the little place in preparation of weekends soon to come. Of course, she had been questioning him about that, too, but it seemed it was more for polite curiosity than the sake of her own personal reference.

He half-expected her to show up on his land during the weekends, just to see how it was coming along, but to his surprise (or was that disappointment?), she had been busy and barely even spent much time at home. Hershel usually mentioned that she was with her boyfriend, Zach, who she'd met at the beginning of the summer and recently been on several dates with. Daryl wasn't sure why he was surprised, he just always seemed to somehow forget she was even seeing anyone because she never mentioned him. Not that he wanted a teenaged girl sitting in his office and jabbering about her scrawny boyfriend, but with everything else she felt like sharing, he would've thought she'd at least throw his name out there every once in a while. He never thought to shoot any questions back at her when she asked him something because he was usually occupied with feeling awkward and out-of-place. Despite his expectations, he didn't feel 'constantly questioned' by Beth, but he certainly felt scrutinized. Far from his own preferences, she was the kind of girl who wanted to know the coworkers in her close proximity. If Daryl had his way, he wouldn't talk to anyone he worked with – not even her – except to discuss business matters. Beth, however, wanted to know them and be on a first-name basis. He'd even witnessed her making friendly small talk with some of the office staff in the break room, and every few days she'd tell him a fact about the girl who worked behind the desk, or the guy who worked in the office two doors down from Daryl's. He feigned interest, but always pushed her words right back out of his head – he felt that his mind had limited space available, and he didn't want it cluttered with the birthday of the guy he said 'hello' to every two weeks in passing.

He figured, though, that if she was really studying him or trying to get to know him, she was going about it the old-fashioned way with inquisitive remarks every couple of days over a few weeks' time. Maybe she could tell that he wasn't exactly an open person, or maybe she feared overstepping boundaries but just couldn't satisfy her curiosity without asking. Her questions always seemed to come at casual times when she caught him off-guard, such as in the middle of a very delicious meal or in the midst of a frustrating moment in traffic.

" _Have you ever worked a fast food job?" "Have you ever been married?" "When's the last time you had a girlfriend?" "Have you ever left Georgia?" "Are you named after anyone?" "Can you play any instruments?" "Who taught you how to hunt?" "Have you ever been arrested?" "How many siblings d'you have?" "Why don't you ever listen to music in the car?"_

However, on this particular day in the office, she asked a question that startled him completely out of his computer screen trance.

"Who's that?"

His eyes shot up and looked to where Beth was facing, looking curiously out through the open blinds of his office window into the hallway outside. There he saw her – her back was turned to him as she spoke to a pair of men but he recognized her immediately. Her straight posture, long legs, shiny blonde hair curled and flowing down her back.

Andrea.

* * *

 _He was digging through drawers for something, batteries maybe, and in his mindless hunt, he slid open her nightstand drawer. To his confusion, he found a small white stick shoved into the back corner behind a disappointingly empty pack of batteries. It had a pink tip and the small window on one side displayed one dark pink line and another light but visible pink line. He stared at it for a moment, the sound of the running shower coming from the bathroom across the bedroom. He racked his brain for a minute before putting two and two together. His breath caught in his throat and his heart leapt upwards to join it. It suddenly felt like the room was falling away underneath him. He had to remind himself this was real, and then consciously ask himself for logical explanations. But he knew there could only really be one._

 _He heard the shower being turned off just as he began heading for the closed bathroom door. With the small white stick held carefully in one hand, he knocked before turning the knob and entering without waiting for a response first. His girlfriend of nearly three years stood before him, dripping wet from the shower and in the process of wrapping herself in a bath towel at the chest. She looked at him in questioning._

" _What is it?" She asked, confused by his rushed entry and the pale shade of his face._

 _He held up the stick in his hand and stared at her, watching her reaction carefully. Her eyes darted to the object and he saw panic cross her face, then she looked at him and made full eye contact, her lips pursing and her features turning stony._

" _Why didn't you tell me?" was all he could think to ask first. He was a very odd mixture of elated and panic-stricken, but had to restrain himself from sweeping her up in a giant hug right this moment._

 _She swallowed visibly, her eyes drifting downwards. She took a deep breath and steadied her shoulders, her hair dripping water onto her shoulders and down her arms. She raised her head again and looked into his eyes. He thought she was crying in joy, or from guilt of not telling him sooner. But when she spoke, he realized he was completely mistaken, and his heart plummeted down to his stomach._

" _Daryl, I… it's not yours."_

* * *

A shudder ran through him and he had to tear his eyes away from the sight of her. He gave a grunt in reply to Beth and was thankful when she accepted it as "I'm too busy" and went back to hunching over a pile of papers in silence. But he was suddenly very unfocused and finding it difficult to finish the email he'd been composing.

He stared at the screen blankly, his mind racing with a million thoughts while his fingers sat frozen on the keyboard. The final sentence of his email sat unfinished and the cursor blinked at him expectantly. He'd known she was coming, but seeing her again was still shocking. He hadn't really prepared for what would happen if he had to work in her proximity. To be completely honest, Beth had distracted him since his last unpleasant lunch with Gregory and two other coworkers. Somehow, he'd put it almost completely out of his mind that Andrea was expected back soon, and now here she was, and he didn't even know for how long. Had Jay said a few weeks…? He couldn't remember through all the recent memories of lunches with Beth.

A soft knock at his office door made him jump just slightly. He looked up to see Andrea's high heels clad feet visible through the window in the opening of the blinds just above the floor, the rest of her hidden behind the door. His heart leapt into his throat and he suddenly felt all the coffee and donuts in his stomach threatening to come back up. He cleared his throat and stood up from his desk, straightening his tie and trying to compose himself. He glanced at Beth. She was watching him with those big, blue eyes, her mouth frozen in an O of question. But when she saw the grave look on his face, she snapped her lips shut and turned in her seat to watch the door. He reached it in three short strides and opened it slowly. There she stood, all blonde hair and black clothes, intimidating as ever but still deceptively beautiful. He swallowed the knot in his throat.

"Can I help you?" he asked, using his well-rehearsed professional voice.

Andrea smiled warmly. He noticed she'd developed more lines around her eyes and her mouth since he'd last seen her, showing her age and stress. But her blue eyes still held the determined spark they always had, and he couldn't seem to slow his racing heart. He tried to tell himself it had been over five years, that he shouldn't be feeling this panicked in her presence, but his body wouldn't listen.

"Hi, Daryl. Just wanted to see how you've been doing," she said, her voice almost too nice. He could hear the effort she was putting into sounding formal.

He shrugged, glancing sideways to see Beth watching their exchange with curiosity. "I'm good. Yerself?"

She nodded, warm smile plastered across her lips, and glanced to Beth as well. She nodded in greeting before looking back into Daryl's eyes. "I'm doing well, thank you. I'll be helping out with the case for a few weeks so I suppose we'll be in close proximity again for a bit."

Daryl only nodded. "Yep."

Andrea's lips pursed and she suddenly looked awkward. What had she been expecting from him? Did she really think he'd be happy to see her again, under these circumstances? Or was she trying to put on a show for Gregory and the others – who were standing mere feet away in the hall, talking amongst themselves - to prove that she could be professional with her ex despite prior evidence of the contrary? Either way, Daryl knew he wanted no part of it. And now he was irritated because he knew her presence would throw him off of his work routine for days, possibly weeks.

"Well," she said, trying and failing to hide her loss for words. "Um, it's nice to see you again – "

Daryl cut her off, unable to hold back his own question that had been sitting in his mouth indecisively, "How's the baby?"

Her eyes shone with surprise, but her lips turned up in a proud smile – genuinely this time. "She's great. We've been working on her reading and writing. She starts school this fall. I can't keep her inside for the life of me, she's just like me and Amy when we were little."

He nodded and pushed down the fire in his belly that was trying to push its way up to his throat.

 _Don't care, don't care, don't care,_ he silently repeated to himself inside his own head, like a personal mantra to remind himself not to become vulnerable around this soul-sucking woman.

"And how's Shane? Y'all married yet?" He continued. He hadn't even checked her ring finger, but he didn't really want to either. The question was more out of posed formality rather than actual interest. If anything, he knew she could hear the bitter bite to his words.

She smiled as if he'd made a joke and shook her head, a small chuckle coming from her throat. "No, um – we broke up. I believe he's seeing someone else right now, but we don't really talk except when it's about Amelia."

 _Fuckin' asshole knocked her up and didn't even stay with her. Selfish prick_ , Daryl thought to himself angrily. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd had his favorite toy taken from him by a playground bully just to watch the bully play with it for a few minutes before tossing it aside, broken and dirty. He had to remind himself that his feelings were changed now, and that he wasn't the chump his brother had claimed he was during the weeks after Andrea had left. He was no longer a mess, broken down and dejected and constantly on the edge of a mental breakdown. No, he was better now, self-sufficient, and he already promised himself he'd never let a woman like Andrea get close enough to hurt him again. She'd solidified his lifelong belief that showing vulnerability to others would do nothing but get him screwed over.

"And yer sister?" He continued, checking off the final thing on his list of conversational topics with Andrea. He just wanted to get past the niceties so she'd walk away and he could try to ignore her for the next few weeks and go back to pretending she didn't exist.

Her face fell, however, when his question came out, and she looked down to the floor for a moment before looking back up at him, taking a deep breath and composing herself. She spoke with difficulty, as if the words were touching a wound that was still healing, "She, um… passed away. Two years ago."

Daryl's heart dropped and he couldn't hide his expression of disappointment. He had liked Andrea's sister, Amy. She was sweet and real and she'd always told Daryl exactly what she felt, even when she felt that her own sister was in the wrong. He remembered how she'd been the only one to sympathize with Daryl when Andrea had left him and begun dating Shane, and the only one who'd told her sister exactly how selfish she was being.

"What – I had no idea. I'm sorry to hear that… What happened?" He asked, his voice lower and more serious. As much as he disliked this woman, he wasn't going to demean her for her loss. He personally couldn't imagine how he'd react if his own brother were to die.

Andrea sighed and looked away from his eyes as she briefly explained, "Car accident. She was hit by a drunk driver on her way home from work. Thankfully she died on impact, so she didn't suffer. I'm, uh… sorry I never contacted you. I should've invited you to the funeral. I know you always liked her."

He nodded awkwardly and looked down to the floor, resorting to mumbling like he usually did when he was confronted with emotional moments. "That's alrigh' – I understand why ya didn't. I did like her, though. She was a good girl. Damn shame she had to go like that. Hope they locked the fucker up."

She shrugged as if she were shaking off the negative feelings and memories, "Thirty-six months in jail. He only had one prior so they let him off easy."

Daryl grunted in disdain, the only response he could think to say, "Shitty."

They were silent for a few seconds while Andrea seemed to relocate her professionalism and pull herself out of her own memories. When she spoke again, her voice was back to the false politeness it'd held at the beginning of the conversation, "Well, I'm staying at the Sheraton just a few blocks away. Would you like to get some drinks together this weekend? Catch up and maybe talk a little business?"

The proposal caught Daryl off-guard, and he stared at her, perplexed. _Talk what business?_ he thought. They had no business to discuss – he had no part in this case, and she was supposed to be working on the floor above him with everyone who was higher up in the company than he was. His eyes shot over to Beth, who was indiscreetly watching and listening to their entire conversation, apparently so mesmerized that she hadn't thought about whether or not she was being rude. She looked back at him and seemed to remember where she was, quickly turning around in her chair and hunching over her paperwork to appear busy. She'd interpreted his look as "can you mind your own business for a minute," but he had actually intended quite the opposite. He met Andrea's eyes again and gave her the first response he could come up with.

"Actually, me an' Beth here were gonna do some fishin' this weekend," he gestured to the young blonde sitting feet from him, as if it were just another weekend and they'd had it planned forever. "Got a nice little piece of her daddy's land and there's a real nice pond near it. Figured I could teach 'er how to catch catfish."

Andrea's eyebrows rose in surprise and her mouth nearly dropped open before she pursed her lips tightly and glaringly side-eyed Beth, who had swiveled her head back toward them at the mention of her name. Her face held the look of cluelessness Daryl had expected as she looked first at Andrea, intimidation obvious in her eyes, and then to him, where the intimidation quickly turned to questioning. He could read her expression: she was silently asking him what part she was supposed to be playing right now. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and drew Andrea's eyes away from the young blonde and back to him, where he feigned a small smirk and kept his gaze locked on with hers. She tried to give him a fake smile and hide the spite that was creeping across her face, but he could still read her like a book. Sickeningly, it gave him a little pleasure to see her as close to jealousy as he probably ever had, but he secretly reveled in it. The older blonde straightened her back and appeared to shrug off his rejection.

"Oh, that's alright, maybe next weekend. That sounds fun, though! I haven't been fishing in years. No time with this work schedule," she said, voice cheerful but veiling disappointment. She was overcompensating, Daryl could tell. "And how rude of me – Beth, I'm Andrea. It's nice to meet you. Are you his – "

"Intern. For the summer. Nice to meet you, ma'am."

Before he could turn his gaze back to Beth to see her reaction to Andrea's impromptu introduction, she was standing up beside him and responding with her high-pitched professional voice, reaching a hand out to meet Andrea's in a loose handshake. The two women quickly withdrew their hands and gave the same polite nod and tight-lipped smile. Daryl almost laughed at the exchange. Andrea was even older than him, had nearly two decades on Beth, and had been living in the business world for years; yet right now, she appeared to be just as young and awkward and misplaced as Beth was looking. His amusement quickly disappeared, though, as he began to wonder what else these two women had in common that he hadn't discovered yet.

"Daryl, I was waiting for you to introduce us," Andrea turned her attention back to him, and he returned her plastic smile with a look of indignation that he didn't even attempt to disguise.

"Yeah, well now ya met, I really gotta get back to m'work," he muttered, his voice back to being low and defensive. He nodded in the direction of Gregory's back, just feet away from them in the hall, and added, "Jus' ask him – I'm way behind. Never gettin' shit done on time. Good luck on yer case."

He reached for the door before Andrea could form another sentence. She noticed the gesture and nodded, quickly backing out across the threshold as he slowly swung the door shut.

"I'll see you around, Daryl," she added before turning and walking away, still as prideful as ever, to join the other men once again, and the door closed across the gap and clicked shut, finally obscuring her from vision.

With his head down and eyes set on his desk, Daryl spun around and crossed the office to return to his seat. He could feel Beth's eyes on him, and for some reason, it bothered him. He was suddenly very embarrassed of his spontaneous lie to Andrea. And even worse, he'd just made Beth a part of his personal problems, which he'd never normally do, and without her consent. He was silently hoping she hadn't read the situation incorrectly – he didn't want her getting the wrong idea. They still had to work together for two more months.

He returned to how he'd been positioned before the knock at the door had come, finding himself staring at the same unfinished email on his computer screen with his fingers hovered over the same keys on the keyboard. He was trying to think straight, but he couldn't think at all. There were a million thoughts running through his head, but he couldn't focus on a single one. And it didn't help that he could feel Beth's eyes boring into him from where she sat at her own desk across the office. He tried to wait it out until she got bored and looked away, but that didn't seem to be happening.

He finally whipped his head to face her and spat, " _What?!_ "

Her eyebrows were raised high above her big, blue eyes, and her lips were pursed, as if she were expecting some sort of explanation, but she didn't flinch at his reaction. He figured he owed her at least an explanation, if he was being honest – and an apology for earning her a glare from a woman she'd never even met before.

But before he could try to stumble over a sorry, she was asking him, "So we're goin' fishing _this_ weekend?"

Daryl's face immediately softened and he mumbled in reply, "Nah. Ya pro'ly can't even bait a hook."

Beth looked confused for a split-second before she understood and saw the smirk appear on his face. A small smile of her own grew on her lips, and even from his desk, Daryl could see the spark in her blue eyes.

"Just makin' sure it's _this_ weekend – so I can clear my schedule," she said mischievously.

Daryl couldn't help but chuckle. Maybe it was all his nerves finally building up to the point that he had to laugh at himself, or just the way that Beth was always snapping back at his quips at any given moment – even in tense situations like this. The girl was sharp, he had to give her that, and she wasn't soft and dainty either. He could be his own, rough, "unapproachable" self while he was around her and she didn't find anything wrong with it. Most people would give him a glare – similar to Andrea's - at some of his off-handed remarks and frustrated grumblings. But not Beth. It seemed that understanding and tolerance came easy for her. He didn't have to put on his fake business mask when they were together. It was like a breath of fresh air in his workplace, for once.

"Hope ya got yer own pole. I ain't lettin' ya borrow one," he said, still smirking and unable to hide it.

Beth rolled her eyes in his direction playfully before looking back down to her paperwork and returning to writing. "Don't wanna borrow yer sucky pole anyway."

A couple of moments passed as they both appeared to return to work, but she soon raised her head again and looked in Daryl's direction. "Is it okay if I bring Zach?"

There was a tiny jab inside of Daryl, and it felt somewhat recognizable, but he shoved it away just as soon as it appeared. He had no time for whatever it was.

"'Course. Better have his own pole."

 **to be continued…**


	4. Gossip

**A/N:** So I just want to say that I've been overwhelmed by the reviews I've been receiving on this. I never expected so many responses and I definitely wasn't sure if many people would enjoy it. So if you've been reading, and even taking the time to review, I want to thank you sooooo much. You've been my motivation to keep writing! Your reviews absolutely brighten my day! And your enthusiasm gives me even more enthusiasm!  
I also want to give a huuuuuge shout-out to **benevolent01** , whose review and input inspired me to finish the unfinished chapter that had been sitting on my computer for 2 months and to fill in all the gaps that kept me from continuing the story. You're seriously the best, thank you!  
Anyway, let me know what you think, give me input, criticism, all of it. I love it all! I hope this chapter meets your expectations. Next chapter will, I promise, be the fishing trip :)

* * *

 **Gossip**

The morning after Andrea's expected-but-surprise arrival, Beth caught her usual ride from Shawn into town. He'd begun making it a habit to run to the store or meet up with some of Hershel's business partners and debt collectors after dropping Beth off, so the long drives were beneficial for the both of them. However, since the frigidity between them had died down from their argument on her first day of work, they'd resigned to not speaking as much as they used to. But then again, Beth reminded herself, none of them did anything quite as much as they used to since her mother had passed.

Even before they'd shared hurtful words, Shawn was lost in his own thoughts most of the time, checking off mental lists of things that needed to be done that he'd had to take responsibility of since Hershel had to let go of so many people to save money. Even the almost-content silences between them weren't the norm compared to a year or so ago. She could still remember how overprotective her older brother had always been, interrogating every boy she'd ever brought over or gone on a date with. But now, he'd only met Zach once, and that was only briefly, as he was heading out the door to do more work at the time. He didn't ask her about Zach, but then again, she kind of preferred it that way.

Lately, she and her boyfriend of barely a month had been having more frequent arguments, and she was finding herself abandoned or neglected more often than not. If anyone were to ask her about him, she wasn't sure if she could hold back the complaints that would surely rise to the surface and pour out of her like one of those never-ending handkerchiefs clowns use. But no one really did ask about him. Her boyfriend was immature and selfish, and he didn't treat her the best sometimes, but she always had a soft spot for him and couldn't seem to detach herself. She'd clung onto him like a lifesaver in the ocean, even though she had some suspicions and a bad feeling in her gut that they wouldn't end up lasting the entire summer. She excused it all because he was currently the only good thing she really had to look forward to – someone to spend the weekends with, laughing and distracting herself from the sad silence that hung over her home during the week. She had to come home every day to that cloud of mourning, and sometimes, locking herself up in her bedroom and writing or playing guitar didn't always work to alleviate any stress. So for now, the weekends were her getaway, and the one thing she had to keep her going through the tiring work week. She appreciated how busy Daryl was keeping her at the office, but sometimes walking in to the stacks of papers on her desk felt a bit overwhelming, and she'd have the strong urge to turn around and just leave, maybe find a coffee shop somewhere and hide until it was time for Shawn to pick her up. A couple of times, she'd caught herself counting the weeks left until school started again.

 _That's not normal,_ she told herself. _Normal college kids don't count down the time until school starts. They enjoy their summer and the freedom. I'm supposed to be having fun right now._

For a moment, she contemplated going to Maggie and confiding in her big sister like she used to when she was younger. But that thought quickly left her mind because she knew all she'd get out of it was a lecture. Maggie had taken it too heavily upon herself to become the new 'mother figure' in the family. Even Patricia, who lived with her husband Otis just down the road and also assisted Hershel in most of his veterinary work around the farm, had agreed with Beth that Maggie had become too strict and worrisome, and all the unnecessary stress would prematurely age her inside and out. She was trying to do everything at once, and even though it was with good intentions and with only the thought of Hershel's well-being in mind, it became too much on most everyone else. Everyone but Hershel seemed to avoid her nowadays, and Beth couldn't remember the last time she'd truly _talked_ to her sister in the way that sisters are supposed to talk. Maggie was always looking for a confrontation, looking for someone to complain to about the various problems on the farm, trying to find extra tasks for every person she ran into. Beth knew she couldn't talk to her about anything without getting backlash, and consequentially, hearing about it from Hershel, too.

She'd found Maggie rifling through her bag just about a week after she'd returned home for the summer, and since then, Beth had been careful of what she said or did around her. Maggie hadn't even tried to defend herself – she stated plain and simple to Beth that she was partly in charge of the family and it was her job to make sure Beth wasn't getting into trouble at school or having any personal problems that might end up hurting her, or even worse, bringing home anything that could cause trouble. Beth had been furious at her sister's assumptions about her – it was like they didn't even know each other anymore. Had she really thought Beth would've done _anything_ like that? But in the end, all she could do was scoff and lock her bedroom door whenever she left the house. There was nothing she could argue, she knew, because none of it mattered anymore. All that mattered to Maggie was making sure everyone was doing what they were supposed to and not making any more trouble for Hershel. But Beth resented how her sister treated him like he was a fragile old man. He was one of the strongest men she knew, and even if he was fighting his own silent battles, he could handle a lot more than anyone gave him credit for. But Maggie was terrified at the idea of him turning back to his old drinking problem as a way to cope with losing his wife and going into so much debt. Beth knew he was smarter than that, though.

It seemed the only times the family was truly at peace was in church on Sunday mornings. Hershel and Annette had been very involved with their local church, but since she'd gotten sick, they had cut back heavily. Even after her death, they couldn't seem to find the time or the desire to attend more than the usual Sunday morning, or take part in any of the church's events. But the Greene family was still present every week, just like they had been for over fifteen years. Beth secretly looked forward to it, even though Shawn usually skipped it to finish more tasks on the farm and Maggie was always a bundle of stress as she tried to coordinate their breakfast and how much she would allow her father to do for the rest of the day. But Beth was always sitting in the pew, right next to her daddy, who would look over at her with a glowing smile on his face and she could still see hope in his eyes, even through all the gray hair and wrinkles. And some Sundays, she would join the choir in singing just like she used to do every single Sunday from the age of ten to eighteen. It was almost like things were back to normal, the way they were before college and before Annette's death. Sometimes, Beth would glance into the crowd and see Maggie and her face would actually look peaceful for once, and she'd have a prideful look in her eyes as she watched her little sister sing praise for their Lord.

Of course, it didn't last long. Church always ended, Sunday always passed, and the family was back to their own devices. Zach always asked Beth why she bothered with "the whole church thing," and it seemed that her lack of an answer only proved to upset him. Even though she looked forward to spending time with him on Friday nights and Saturdays, she just didn't find the idea of his company more enticing than those few hours of Sunday morning with her family.

But now, it was Thursday, and she was so close to the freedom that the weekend brought, she could feel it. She'd proposed the idea of the spontaneous fishing trip to Zach the night before, right after she'd gotten home from her day of work, and he had agreed, although not enthusiastically. She assured him he could still do his favorite hobby, drinking inordinate amounts of booze, and he agreed that would make it bearable, but he still seemed upset at the fact it was her boss, and that he'd basically be interfering on the young couple's precious "alone time." But she'd brushed it off and insisted he come, because whether he was going or not, she'd already decided where she would be on Saturday. She hadn't been to the cabin in years, and she hadn't been fishing in even longer, so it sounded irresistibly pleasant. All she had to do was get through two more days of work first.

Shawn pulled the truck into his usual spot in front of the coffee shop that sat just around the corner from the office building, stopping and waiting for Beth to gather her purse and open the door to step out onto the curb.

"See ya tonight," he bid her goodbye as she waved and shut the passenger door of the truck behind her.

It had been another silent ride, Beth occupying herself with her phone and Shawn focused completely on driving as the radio had hummed the low sounds of the local country station. She heard the truck pull away and speed down the street, away from her, but she didn't turn to watch it. Instead, she focused on the sidewalk in front of her and the small, glass front door she was approaching. She had stepped out of the air conditioning and into the stifling heat that was already settling over Atlanta for the day. It was the time of summer when it grew hot early, and stayed hot most of the night, making your clothes stick to your skin and a constant sweat drip down the back of your neck. She was thankful to only have to endure it between entering the coffee shop, getting her and Daryl's drinks, and leaving the coffee shop to walk around the block and enter the icy cold inside of the office building.

With Daryl's hot coffee in one hand and her own iced coffee in the other, Beth stepped into the lobby of the building and saw Olivia behind the reception desk as usual. Beth muttered a "good morning" as she passed and got silence in return. Olivia usually replied with a cheerful greeting, though. She turned back to look at the receptionist and found her glaring over her shoulder at Beth, small eyes squinted behind glasses. Beth turned back without a word and didn't stop walking the entire time, turning down the hall and asking herself why Olivia would be giving her the evil eye. What had she done to upset her?

She tried to shrug it off as she approached the door to Daryl's office, which was shut as usual. She knew Daryl wouldn't care to hear about it, and she tried to convince herself it was probably just her imagination and Olivia hadn't been glaring at her; there was most likely a logical explanation for her alleged reaction. Besides, it wasn't something worth overthinking. If she had any spare time to think about personal things between paperwork, she'd be thinking about which bathing suit she wanted to wear to go fishing.

A part of her wanted to impress Zach, and she knew showing off her body for him would make him happy. Another part of her also knew that he'd probably be expecting sex after a day of drinking and fishing, and she started to wonder if they'd have to do it in the backseat of his car again or if Daryl would offer them to stay the night in the cabin. Either way, she'd have to be extra quiet, and she knew Zach would pout if they didn't do anything sexual the entire time, so there was no getting around it. Then again, it was something else that she knew would make him happy, and a part of her desired to do just that as often as possible.

When Beth stepped into Daryl's office, he was at his desk, reading over some paperwork laid out before him. She approached and set his coffee down in whatever clear area she could find with a cheerful, "Good morning!"

He grunted a hello and she understood that he was concentrating on the paperwork, most likely trying to make sense of the overcomplicated nonsense that seemed to be written all throughout most documents he had to deal with. Beth was surprised that he could understand most of it, and she was glad she didn't have to deal with any of the details like he did. Even after weeks of reading over things and helping to assist in a way, she couldn't make sense of any of it, and all Daryl's attempted explanations had flown over her head. From what she'd seen while doing her part, she knew he wasn't lying when he had told Gregory how valuable he was.

She also knew that Gregory was a man who was too cowardly to ever actually do anything but degrade and insult someone like Daryl, professionally or otherwise. She'd had to see him in passing a couple of times since their lunch, in the breakroom. Thankfully, they hadn't made small talk, but Beth had stood off to the side or just around the corner sometimes when she knew Gregory was speaking to someone. She knew it was rude as hell and probably completely unnecessary, but she just couldn't help herself. If nothing else, it had given her an insight on just how awful he really was as a person, especially when he expressed his own, original thoughts aloud. He seemed to have nothing but negative things to say about everyone, whether to their faces or behind their backs. She had yet to hear him give Daryl any good ideas or suggestions, or act like an actual manager and not just a self-servient asshole.

Beth took her seat at her own desk near the door, setting her purse and coffee down and beginning to settle in for the morning. She had started looking through the papers in her first stack of the day, ready to get to work, when she heard Daryl clear his throat from across the small office and she raised her head to look at him.

"Thanks, fer the coffee," he mumbled, just loud enough that she could hear him.

"You're welcome," she smiled back. She was used to this by now – when he was too busy or wrapped up in a call or reading, he wouldn't greet her or say anything, but he never failed to thank her eventually, even if it was half an hour later.

She looked down to resume her work but heard his voice again, a bit louder this time.

"Boyfriend still comin'?" It was a partial question but she understood it nonetheless.

She nodded, stacking the papers in her hand into separate piles on her desk. "Yep. Saturday, right? What time should we show up?"

Daryl shrugged, his eyes on his computer screen, one hand absent-mindedly stroking his short goatee in thought. "Whenever. Fish get t'bitin' somethin' fierce right 'fore the sun comes up and right 'fore it goes down. Take yer pick."

Beth quickly replied, "Then I'll see ya about five or six." After she said it, though, she had a feeling it wouldn't have mattered if she'd answered at all. He'd probably just sit out there fishing, from daybreak to nightfall, not caring whether Beth and her boyfriend showed up or not. But how could she be offended? The man probably didn't get lonely. Ever.

They went back to work and didn't speak again for a couple of hours. Beth had finished her coffee long ago and was beginning to get thirsty, as well as feel the familiar mid-morning emptiness in her stomach. She hardly ever ate breakfast anymore, and if she did, it was only a piece of toast or a Pop-Tart on the way out of the house. Her voice filled the silent office and she nearly started herself with the sound.

"I'm gonna get somethin' from the breakroom. Want anything?" She asked, standing up slowly from her chair and stretching out her legs and arms.

Daryl didn't look up from the notepad he was scribbling on. He shook his head and grunted, "Nah."

She turned and left the office, closing the door softly behind her, before heading down the hall in the direction of the breakroom. As she approached the open door to the room, she could hear voices drifting out from inside. Most of them were low and secretive, while only a couple people could be heard speaking casually and at audible volume about the weather and their family lives. Beth didn't take any note of it this time, whether one of the voices was Gregory's or not. All she cared about at the moment was the yogurt and flavored water in the fridge with her name on them.

She had just retrieved her items from the fridge, which sat on the wall farthest from the entrance, shutting the door and turning around, when she heard her name called from the far corner of the room.

"Oh, Beth!"

She looked over to see Andrea waving at her, a smile on her face, from the table that sat by the wall near the door. Beth hadn't even seen her, she'd walked right past her without glancing in that direction.

She waved hesitantly and called back softly, "Hi there."

Now her heart was starting to beat faster as she approached the table tentatively, confusion all over her face.

"Hey," Andrea greeted, gesturing to the empty seat across from her at the small, round table. "You can sit here with me."

Beth sat down in the plastic chair, setting her yogurt, spoon, and water on the table. She smiled, but it was wavering, and she couldn't maintain eye contact with Andrea without looking away awkwardly. But she tried to act as if this were normal anyway. "Uh, thank you."

She began opening her yogurt as Andrea went on to explain, "I've been sitting alone the whole time – all the guys I know are still working upstairs but I needed a break. It's nice to have some company."

Beth nodded, chancing a small smile. She began digging into her yogurt, hoping to appear too occupied to talk. If she'd known this would happen, she would've just waited for lunch. But apparently Andrea couldn't read her body language – or maybe she just didn't care. She was eating a small garden salad, but the fork rested motionless in one hand as she watched Beth with curious eyes, appearing eager to converse. But Beth couldn't figure out why. This woman barely knew her, and she'd given her an awfully dirty look yesterday. Not to mention, she had a feeling that Daryl was partially using her against Andrea, subconsciously but purposely antagonizing her in the only way he knew how.

"How are you? Busy morning?" Andrea began attempting to start the semblance of a real conversation.

Beth shrugged, suddenly feeling as if she were under a microscope. She wanted to melt away and slide out the door, back to the safety of her own desk in Daryl's quiet office. But she answered, trying to speak clearly and without hesitance, "Yeah, very. But I'm doing well. Yourself?"

She was using her professional voice with the older woman, the fake one she'd developed over the last few weeks from studying Daryl and dealing with nothing but people in suits or high heels. As far as she was concerned, this woman was just another boss of Daryl's, and could easily turn on her at any moment. So the best option was always to treat it like a business meeting or a job interview. She forced her best formal smile to the surface and continued enjoying her yogurt, making sure to take small bites and never speak with food in her mouth.

Andrea's expression softened and the lines creasing the corners of her eyes seemed to relax. She continued smiling, but her voice became just a bit lower, "I'm tired, in all honesty. I haven't had a day off in months and this case is getting worse and worse every day. I thought it'd be a quick job but it's turning into a much bigger deal than we anticipated."

She let out an exhausted sigh and leaned forward a little bit, poking at her salad with the fork in her hand but not eating. She was looking down now, but Beth kept her own eyes focused on the older woman's face. She wasn't sure why Andrea was revealing any vulnerability to her right now. Did she really want to vent to Beth? Or was this going to be about something else?

"Wow, I'm… sorry. I hope it works out okay. I, uh, all I heard from Daryl was that it was just another case, no big deal really," Beth said softly, trying to be compassionate while also appearing ignorant and innocent. "But I guess it must be kinda big if they needed to bring you on, I s'pose. From the way Daryl talked, you haven't worked back this way in a while."

This seemed to catch Andrea's attention, oddly enough, because her eyes shot up at the last sentence and locked with Beth's, and her fiddling hand stilled itself. Her voice became less tired and more intrigued as she spoke, "He told you that?"

Beth froze for a second and worried that she'd said something wrong, but she tried to shrug as if it meant nothing to her and muttered, "I mean, he didn't really tell me much, just that you're a lawyer and you help on some cases here sometimes, when the company needs you…"

Andrea's eyes were slowly squinting as they analyzed Beth, and when she'd finished muttering out her reply, Andrea was quick to ask, "That's really _all_ he told you?"

Beth nodded slowly, "Yeah… Why?"

Andrea sighed and looked away for a moment, as if trying to find the right words. When she finally spoke, it almost sounded spiteful, "Don't you go fishing together? Have lunch together every day? And he hasn't even told you who I am?"

Beth shook her head and gave the older blonde a confused look, quickly explaining, "No, actually. This fishin' thing is the first time we've ever seen each other outside of work, and I – uh – it's mostly just because it's right down the road from my house. Plus I'm bringing my boyfriend, it's just somethin' for us to do. Otherwise, I don't think he'd invite me anywhere… I'm sorry, am I _supposed_ to know who you are? Besides what he's told me? I don't mean to be disrespectful…"

Andrea smirked, but she didn't seem completely satisfied. She shook her head, "No, it's… forget about it. I just want you to be careful. This job can be a lot more stressful than you think, even if it's just for the summer."

Beth sat frozen, trying to think of what she was supposed to say, unable to decide whether she should nod or shake her head or just get up and walk away. But Andrea spoke again before she could do anything, her voice just loud enough that Beth could hear it, "Just be careful around him, alright? Lunch dates and fishing dates – it all ends up somewhere. And you don't want to make enemies in the professional world so young, ya know?"

Beth's brow furrowed and she opened her mouth to argue, about to ask if Andrea had just meant what she thought she'd meant. But before she could, Andrea quickly explained, "With people like Gregory, I mean. Obviously. He can be a – kind of a hard-ass, if you haven't realized it yet. Just step carefully around him."

Beth could only nod slowly, a little shocked at the whole conversation and unsure of how to react to Andrea's wildly contradicting expressions and statements. She muttered out, "Uh… thanks, I guess…"

Andrea grabbed what remained of her salad up in both hands, tossing the fork in with it, and moved to stand up as she remarked, "I'm just telling you this from one woman to another, Beth. Gotta get back upstairs now, I'll see you around."

Beth remained still in her chair as she watched Andrea walk away and dump her salad in the trash before leaving the breakroom, turning for a second on her way out and giving a quick goodbye wave. When she'd disappeared down the hall, Beth recomposed herself and looked down at her last bit of remaining yogurt, her appetite suddenly absent. The conversation she'd just had kept replaying in her mind, and she tried to make sense of it, but it was all too shocking for her to grasp at once. That woman was a mystery, and she had no idea what she was implying or why she was trying to put the fear of God into Beth's heart, but she had a feeling that she had just been dragged into something that had nothing to actually do with her.

When she returned to Daryl's office to find him in the exact same way she'd left him, Beth was still a bit dazed from her interaction with Andrea. But she really didn't want to see Daryl's reaction if she tried to tell him about it, so she kept it to herself and sat down, attempting to return to work and busy her mind.

She didn't look at the clock again for at least a couple of hours, and when she did, she realized it was past their usual lunch time. When she glanced up to check on Daryl and mention it, she found him already looking in her direction, and he spoke when their eyes met.

"I could really use a beer 'bout now. Wanna do lunch?" He proposed, turning off his computer screen and searching the surface of the desk to find his cell phone.

For a moment, she remembered what Andrea had said, and she almost made an excuse or gave a second thought to having lunch outside of the building with her boss nearly every day. But then she shook it off, assuring herself Andrea was on about something else – and besides, how well could the woman know Daryl? Unless she'd worked in close quarters with him before and was trying to warn Beth of things to come. Yet somehow that didn't seem plausible to her, and she chose not to let her small doubts get in the way of a juicy, bar burger.

"Sure. Where d'you wanna go?" She agreed, standing up and gathering her things while Daryl did the same.

"Take yer pick," he told her, grabbing up his keys and heading for the door.

Beth began racking her brain for which of the bars they'd visited over the last few weeks that she liked the best.

* * *

Within half an hour, Beth and Daryl were sitting in a booth tucked away in the dim corner of a bar just a couple of blocks away from the office. Daryl had two beers in front of him and Beth had a cheeseburger and crinkle-cut fries laid out on a plate before her. She'd also ordered beer, but she preferred the light beer and always had a glass of water as well. Daryl had only ordered a turkey sub and chips, which he'd finished before she was even halfway into her own meal – he had told Beth she was crazy for eating such a hot burger on such a hot and humid day. But she just laughed and ate happily, watching him sip his beer in silence and gaze around the room at the other patrons. He finished the first bottle and moved on to the second.

Beth set her burger down and wiped her mouth with the napkin, clearing her throat and thinking for a moment. She wanted to ask about Andrea, but she wasn't sure how to go about it without telling him about the weird confrontation in the breakroom. Maybe now that he was on his second beer, he'd be a little more open…? She knew she couldn't count on that, but if nothing else, she could just be vague about it and then play it off like it was just another random question if he got upset. He also seemed to be softening towards her just the tiniest bit as of late, and she hoped her own openness was somehow rubbing off on him. She could tell that he kept everything to himself, and she also knew that wasn't healthy for anyone to do.

"So," she started, finding her voice and trying to speak with confidence and casualty. "Why was Andrea so… _weird_ yesterday?"

She dared to make eye contact with him as he watched her with stony, blue eyes. His face didn't change, though, and he answered simply, "Dunno. Weird how?"

Beth gave him a look that urged him to go on – she didn't have to say out loud that it was obvious that he knew what she was talking about. Anyone who'd been present would've found the situation weird, at least in a way.

When he didn't continue, she took it upon herself to call him out. "Um, so ya just… randomly decided that we should go fishin' together?"

Daryl looked like he was about to roll his eyes, but instead, he took another sip of beer and then sighed in defeat. "'M sorry. Ya didn't have to go along with it. I shouldn'ta got ya involved. I just… panicked."

His eyes glanced up to meet hers and check her reaction to his honesty. She didn't let her emotion show on her face, but she was beginning to piece together the puzzle in her mind. If there was anything she'd learned in the last few weeks, it was that Daryl Dixon was a hard man to read, but if you just looked for all the signs, you'd see them. And then you could basically read him like a book. Or at least try to, because he wasn't always so predictable. However, Beth had seen this kind of awkwardness and pain on people's faces and in their motions before, and she had a good idea of what she wanted Daryl to explain to her. And she would never admit it, but she also kind of wanted the details for the sake of her own curiosity; it was like having a guilty pleasure in gossip, wanting to know all the information but not be involved in the actual drama.

"Why did you panic?" She finally asked after the silence started to stretch out between them. Her voice was soft and timid.

Daryl sighed again and sat back in his seat, taking another long sip of beer before looking off at nothing as he began to speak, "Well, every other shithead in that place knows 'bout it, might as well tell you, too."

Beth opened her mouth to object and assure him that he didn't have to tell her and she didn't really _need_ to know, but he cut her off before she could speak.

"We dated 'bout five years ago. We were together fer almost three years, longest I ever been with anyone. Lived together an' everythin'. I was just startin' to move up, get used to the office job an' earning real money. I thought we were happy, but… guess not. She found out she was pregnant, it wasn't mine, she left me. It was this guy named Shane – used to work with my buddy Rick, who introduced me t'yer daddy. Anyway," he stopped and took a deep breath, analyzing the beer in his hand as if it held a deep secret. "Hadn't really talked to her since then. She moved out an' got with him, I focused on work, didn't really care. But some o' the lawyers in the office knew her already and knew 'bout us, an' I'm sure she's tellin' people all kindsa shit up there now. Guess I got lucky the last five years that we never had t'work together."

Beth listened intently, never looking away from Daryl's face, but he showed no emotion. He stated the words like they were almost rehearsed, like it was a story he was tired of telling. She understood that, and when he'd finished, she spoke softly, "Wow, that's horrible… I'm sorry. I didn't know."

He finally looked up and met her gaze, narrowing his eyes. "Oh, c'mon. Like ya hadn't pretty much figured it out."

Beth shrugged and gave him a sheepish smile, attempting to lighten the mood. "I didn't wanna make any assumptions."

He smirked a bit and she felt herself relax again, thankful that it was over with. Now that she knew the whole story, some things made more sense. But she still wasn't about to tell him that Andrea was acting like a scorned lover and trying to corner Beth. Was it a mistake to go through with this fishing trip? With these lunches? Was she giving the wrong appearances without realizing it? She didn't know what she'd do if Daryl were to end up getting in trouble because of her. He had worked hard to get where he was, and she didn't want one stupid summer internship given out of pity to ruin that. She wondered how close Andrea actually was to Gregory, and just how spiteful she really was, or if she was just putting on a show for defensive reasons.

 _Maybe it's not too late to find an excuse and just quit the whole thing,_ she thought. But as soon as it had appeared in her head, she shoved it away. No, she couldn't abandon something she'd already started like that, and she surely couldn't leave this man alone to deal with his old demons by himself. Maybe she could help him control the situation better, ensure his stability and credibility. He was trying so hard, but she knew that one wrong step could put off his whole career.

They didn't really speak for the remainder of their lunch or the ride back to the office. Daryl seemed a bit more relaxed, though, so Beth tried to enjoy the silence and the lack of tension for the moment.

When they stepped through the big, glass doors to the office building and saw Olivia behind the reception desk, they both greeted her as they usually did. She spotted Beth but saw that Daryl was with her and gave a look almost like a grimace, an obviously forced smile and a fake cheeriness appearing in her voice.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Dixon," she said, extremely unconvincingly.

Beth looked at Daryl but he didn't look back at her. His face held a look of confusion just like hers, but apparently he wasn't going to speak about it yet. She hoped he'd say something once they got back to the privacy of the office, because now that it had happened a second time, she was positive there was something going on with Olivia.

She hadn't realized how closely together they were walking until they reached the locked office door and she nearly bumped into him when he stopped to pull out his keys. She reeled back and he looked over at her curiously, but went back to unlocking the door just as quickly. They stepped inside and shut the door behind them, and Beth watched as he set his things down and began settling back into his desk. She waited for him to speak, to bring up Olivia. But he didn't appear to be about to talk anytime soon.

"Didn't you see that?" She asked, staring at him and waiting for him to look back at her as she sat down in her seat.

He finally met her gaze and replied, "What?"

She gave him an incredulous look and gestured to the door they'd just entered through, "Olivia. You didn't see – "

But before she could finish, the phone on Daryl's desk began ringing, and he held up a finger to motion to her that she'd have to hold on for a moment. She stopped talking and waited as he answered the phone, muttering "yeah"s and "okay"s before hanging up and immediately getting up from his chair.

"Where're you goin'?" She asked as he headed for the door.

"Gregory wants t'see me," he mumbled before leaving the small office and swinging the door shut behind him.

Beth found herself sitting at her desk, alone in Daryl's office, with a question still hanging off the tip of her tongue. When she realized he'd have to go all the way upstairs, as well as listen to Gregory blabber on for who knows how long, she decided to give it up and go back to work.

But only about ten minutes had passed when Daryl opened the door and entered the office once again. Beth looked up in surprise to see him swing the door behind him with excessive force, and it slammed shut with a louder echo than normal. He crossed the room in three swift strides, anger emanating off him like waves of heat. Her skin prickled at the emotion she could feel hanging in the air, suddenly heavy over her and completely pushing out all thoughts of what happened with the receptionist.

She dared to ask him, as he was sitting down in his chair and furiously rustling around papers on his desk, "Everythin' okay…?"

He sighed, almost like a toddler who couldn't find their favorite toy and was on the verge of throwing a tantrum, but wouldn't look up or make eye contact with her. "No. I think y'should go for the day. Jus' go home, I don't need ya today."

Beth furrowed her brow and studied Daryl, seeing all the anger and frustration tensed across his face, but unsure of what she could say. He had never sent her home early, and she'd never seen him this upset at work. What had Gregory said to him?

"What… is it the money?" She tried to take a guess at what could be causing the unknown conflict between Gregory and Daryl. "I told you, ya really don't have to pay me, it's just an internship – "

"I said, go home," Daryl interrupted her, his voice sharp and firm, and much louder than usual. He finally raised his eyes and looked at her, and his gaze nearly burned a hole into her skin. She'd never seen him glare at her like that, and she was suddenly scared that she'd somehow caused irreparable damage.

She decided not to say another word, afraid it might only elicit an angrier reaction from him, and instead stood up and began gathering her purse and phone. She started texting her brother as she put the strap of her purse over her shoulder, when she heard Daryl's voice again. This time, it was softer, and almost sympathetic.

"I'll call ya a cab. If ya don't got a ride," he said.

She didn't dare to look up and see the anger in his blue eyes again, keeping her eyes on her phone. "No, it's okay, I – I can text Zach, I think he's in town." Once she'd sent a text to her brother, she sent one to Zach, then opened the door of the office and slipped out into the hall.

"I'll see you tomorrow, sir," she said quietly just before carefully closing the door. She stepped out into the hall and began walking as fast as she could without appearing to be jogging, heading straight for the lobby and the front doors. This time, she passed Olivia without a word or a glance in her direction.

She sat at the coffee shop around the corner, sipping her second iced coffee of the day as she waited for Zach to reach her from his apartment across town. She knew she'd have to give him gas money and he'd act put-out by all the driving, but it was better than cutting her brother's day short, or taking a pity cab from Daryl.

* * *

Beth awoke the next morning to more sunlight pouring into her bedroom than usual. She blinked, confused and disoriented for a second, before turning her head and glancing at the alarm clock. It read 8:04.

"Shit! Shit, shit, shit," she cried out, throwing the blanket off her body and jumping out of bed.

Somehow, she'd forgotten to set her alarm clock. What was she thinking? Her head was so muddled by the day's events and then her evening with Zach, she'd completely spaced it before collapsing into a deep sleep well past midnight. Now she had no time for a shower, and she could only hope Shawn was still somewhere on the farm to give her a ride.

She scrambled around the bedroom, grabbing an outfit from the closet and hurriedly dressing. She applied only the most basic makeup after brushing her teeth, and her hair needed washed, so she doused it in dry shampoo and threw it into a messy bun. She glanced back at the clock every few minutes, watching herself become later and later for work. She prayed that her clean record would benefit her in some way – she hadn't been late or absent yet, not even once. Hopefully Daryl would understand. But after his bout of rage yesterday, she wasn't sure what to expect.

With purse and shoes in hand (she couldn't effectively run down the stairs and around the house in high heels), she rushed down the stairs and to the kitchen, where she could still smell the remnants of breakfast. Maggie was at the sink, washing dishes, but Shawn and Hershel were nowhere in sight, and Beth couldn't see them in the living room or hall either.

"Maggie, where's Shawn? Is he still here?" She asked breathlessly.

Her older sister turned around and looked her up and down, soapy plate in hand, and answered, "He's out back. 'Bouta head into town, I think."

Beth made an audible noise of disapproval and darted out the back door of the kitchen and onto the porch. She spotted Shawn even before she had descended the stairs and crossed the yard. He was standing by the truck, appearing to be loading it up and preparing to leave.

"What the hell?!" Beth yelled at him, approaching him quickly on bare feet. The grass was already warming up from the summer sun.

Shawn spun around to face her, looking completely clueless. "What?"

She threw up her hands in frustration, "What d'ya mean, _WHAT_? Why didn't you wake me up?!"

He looked at her like she was being ridiculous. "Ain't my job to make sure yer ass gets up fer work. I thought yer boss gave ya the day off 'r somethin'."

Beth groaned and walked around to the other side of the truck, opening the passenger door and climbing inside the cab. "Woulda been nice fer someone to just holler at me or somethin'. It's not _that_ hard! Alarms don't always work!"

Shawn climbed into the driver's seat beside her and shook his head, starting the truck. "I'm up 'fore dawn every damn day. No clock, not even a fuckin' rooster. Yer an adult now, act like it."

Beth didn't reply as he pulled away from the farm and they began driving down the dirt roads in the direction of Atlanta. She was fuming silently, glaring out the window with contempt. Her brother didn't say anything else for the entire drive, and didn't seem to care that she was furious with him. She wondered why she even bothered with this family anymore – they were always so indifferent.

When he tried to stop in front of the coffee shop to drop her off, she finally spoke up for the first time since they'd left. "No, just to the office. I'm already late, coffee is just gonna piss him off."

She said it without looking at him or acknowledging his reaction, and he continued driving until they were around the corner and in front of the office building. Just before stopping, though, he muttered spitefully, "Wouldn't wanna piss off _the_ _boss_."

Beth whipped her head around to face him just as he stopped the truck and parked for her to get out. "Ya wanna talk about bein' responsible and holdin' a job, you should know not to piss off yer boss. You don't even make _sense_."

She spat the last few words at him as if he were the most ignorant human being she'd ever met, then climbed out of the truck and slammed the door behind her. He sped off with rage, tires squealing as he pulled out into the street. Beth turned her back and rushed inside, having put her shoes on during the drive.

When she entered the lobby, she almost sped completely past the reception desk, hoping to avoid any unnecessary glares. But instead, she found something a lot more interesting: Andrea's back was turned to the front doors, and she was leaning down towards Olivia, their heads nearly touching as they seemed to whisper indiscreetly. Beth couldn't help but stare as she passed, both women completely unaware of her entrance. Just as she was about to turn into the hall, however, both women turned their heads and looked directly at her.

She didn't have time to see if they glared in her direction or not, because she quickly turned away and fast-walked down the hall towards Daryl's office. She started to wonder if the scene she'd just walked past had anything to do with the looks she got from Olivia the day before. She didn't think about it long, though, because she reached Daryl's office door and slipping inside, hoping to be quiet in case he was on the phone or concentrating. Today, she was praying for another silent greeting.

But when she shut the door behind her and looked up to see Daryl, she realized he was not going to react well at all. His face was tensed up, and he was resting both elbows on his desk and staring at her, as if he'd been waiting for her to walk through the door. She froze and tried to feign a smile and a friendly wave, but he only replied with his continued stoic expression. Unsure of what to do, she stepped lightly over to her desk, setting her things down and taking her seat. Daryl was still staring at her, but now he stood from his seat and walked around to the front of his desk, leaning back slightly against it.

"Yer late," he said.

Beth realized her hands were shaking, and she shoved them between her legs under the desk to try to steady them. She looked Daryl directly in the eye, managing a normal tone to her voice, "I'm sorry. My alarm didn't go off, I overslept. I-I got here as fast as I could."

Daryl crossed his arms and turned his head to look at the clock on the wall. Beth followed his gaze and saw that it read 9:28. Her heart beat even faster. He turned his head back to look at her once more, and his voice was chillingly firm.

"Hour and a half late ain't just late, it's _extremely_ late. Now yer behind fer the whole day, _and_ it's right before the weekend," he said, his reprimanding tone sending chills down Beth's spine. "I dunno if you realize it, but yer _shit_ gets _me_ in trouble, ya know that? I gotta answer fer whatever _you_ do. I ain't got time to be payin' somebody I never needed in the first damn place just t'make my job that much harder. Got it?"

Beth couldn't get herself to do anything more than nod.

"Hope ya ain't hungry, 'cause we're skippin' lunch. Get t'work," he waved his hand as if he were waving away a bothersome fly and turned around, walking back around to sit down behind his desk and bury his face in more papers.

The young blonde calmed herself and avoided looking up again to see Daryl, for fear of the anger sketched into his face. She had never seen him talk to her like that, or anyone for that matter. But she was afraid to learn what she'd actually done and what he'd had to answer for. Had Gregory punished him somehow? What if he fired her? Her daddy would be upset. But he'd probably side with Daryl, and Beth would end up having to take the blame because, what was she going to say? Daryl was _too_ _professional_? Not _nice enough_? She tried too hard to get to know him and make their business relationship into a friendship? If anything, she knew she'd overstepped the boundary somewhere, and now he was paying for it. Maybe Andrea had suspected something. How was she supposed to act around him anyway? She _told_ Andrea she had a boyfriend, did the woman still think Beth was going to cause some kind of trouble for him at work?

But she passed the time by busying herself with the stacks and stacks of paperwork, the needed notes, the filing and sorting. The hours went by quicker than she'd expected, and ignoring Daryl had somehow made concentrating a bit easier. But when she'd pause her work and start thinking about it again, it made her feel horribly guilty, and she wondered if she should dare to pull her phone out and text Zach to make different plans for them for Saturday. It probably wouldn't be such a good show of a diligent worker if she was on her phone and not diligently working.

She supposed she may have been imagining it, but as the hours ticked by, Beth thought she could feel the heavy anger that hung in the air slowly lifting, lightening its weight and receding. She glanced up at Daryl every now and then, but never for longer than a second and no more than twice an hour. He seemed a bit more relaxed, stuck in his own concentration. She hoped he was forgetting about his anger with her.

It was about an hour past their usual lunch time when the phone on Daryl's desk rang and he answered in hushed tones. Beth couldn't make out anything he was saying besides "yeah" and "nah." When he hung up, he finally looked over at her. She hesitantly looked back, waiting for him to speak, or for someone to knock at the door.

"Look… I'm sorry 'bout this morning. I… didn't mean t'be such a dick. I was way too hard on ya," he muttered, and Beth had to strain to hear him, leaning forward in her desk. "It ain't you, though. I – uh – was pissed 'bout somethin' else. Just kinda overwhelmed, gets stressful. I know ya didn't mean t'be late."

Beth shrugged and stared him in the eyes, spotting the apologetic guilt hiding inside them. "'S okay. I understand."

"Y'can go home, if ya want. I made ya stay through lunch, there ain't even…" he paused and sighed, looking down at his desk once more. "Ain't even that much work needs done. I should be doin' it anyway, ain't yer work in the first place. I'll, uh, I'll see ya Monday. Thanks fer yer hard work today."

Beth sat, stunned, and blinked. She shook her head, speaking up louder than he had been, "Monday? You mean tomorrow."

Daryl raised his head again and for a second, she thought she saw the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He mumbled, "Right. Tomorrow… if ya ain't too busy."

She nodded and pursed her lips, stopping herself from saying anything else. She knew this was the best she'd get from him, and frankly, it was more than she'd expected. How could she condemn him for having a little emotional explosion? She and her brother essentially went through the same thing every couple of weeks, and Maggie was on the verge every second that she was awake, so how could Beth not be understanding? She had to tell herself not to take it personally, and that maybe, it actually had nothing to do with her at all.

Just before she opened the door, he asked her from across the room, "Need a cab?"

She turned back and shook her head, giving him a grateful little smile, then opened the door. "See ya Saturday."

She closed the door behind her and walked down the hall, hoping to pass reception quickly and get through the doors before she had to face anyone else today. This office building was suddenly the very last place she wanted to be today.

On her way down the hall, she saw Andrea approaching, a confident smile on her face as she locked eyes with Beth the minute they noticed each other. She expected the older blonde to say something, maybe even make a snarky comment, but she passed without a word, giving Beth nothing but a knowing gaze before she kept walking. Beth turned just briefly to see which direction she was going – why was she always on this floor anyway, when all her work was upstairs?

She was heading straight for Daryl's office.

 **to be continued…**


	5. Gone Fishin'

**Gone Fishin'**

Daryl's hands were trembling as he watched Beth step out the office door and disappear down the hall. He had apologized for being a dick, surely that'd be good enough, right? Not many got apologies from him, she should be grateful.

 _It's not her fault,_ he reminded himself, stopping the spite-ridden thoughts in their tracks. He didn't want her to hate him for the rest of the summer, as much as he didn't want to admit that.

Andrea's voice had sounded calm and business-like on the phone, but he knew her demeanor in person, and behind the closed door of his office, would be entirely different. Sending Beth home early was a last-minute act of defense; he hoped that walking in and finding only Daryl, by himself, may calm the beast just a bit. Or at least he could hope. At the same time, he didn't know if he could handle much more guilt knowing Beth was getting caught in the crossfire of something that had essentially nothing to do with her.

He hadn't been alone for more than sixty seconds when the tall blonde entered the room, not bothering to knock before walking in. He managed to steady his hands, but they unwillingly began trembling again just the slightest when she stepped in. She closed the door tightly behind her and stepped forward, stopping in the middle of the room, just feet from where Daryl sat behind his desk.

"Good afternoon," she greeted, and he half-expected her to start going into a sales pitch of some kind.

She gazed around the room curiously, then looked at Daryl with feigned ignorance, "Where's your intern?"

Daryl stood from his seat and walked around to the front of his desk, leaning back against it and crossing his arms, refusing to step any closer to Andrea. She had her arms hanging loosely and hands folded in front of her, a cocky look on her face.

"Sent 'er home. Why?" He answered. He was starting to wonder if she even had an excuse to be here right now, or if her phone call had been a lie.

She shrugged as if it meant nothing, but he saw the pleased look in her eyes. "Just wondering. I saw her come in late, would've thought you'd have her working through lunch to compensate. You must really be ahead on things. Did you get those papers I sent you?"

Daryl held back a frustrated sigh and answered in his calmest possible voice, "Yeah, I got 'em. Dunno why yer bringin' me in on it, though. I ain't got nothin' t'do with it."

He was letting his usual professional face fall away with her, but it was more out of irritation and all of his energy going to composing himself rather than anything else. He wanted to yell at her, tell her to get out of his life and leave him be, to finish her work and stay out of his business, but he knew that would get him nowhere good. She was a puppet master pulling all the strings, just like she'd been over five years ago.

"You conducted business with the client, as well. I don't see what's so hard to understand about that," she spoke clearly and precisely, and he resented her even more for it. She had a way of being condescending without making it obvious.

"One time," he retorted. "Way before any o' this shit even happened… He was happy with me, too. No complaints. Wasn't till months later, when he was dealin' with somebody else, this shit went down. Sounds like y'should be worryin' about whoever was in charge after they took 'im off my hands."

Andrea kept her plastic smile glued to her face, refusing to show any emotion other than determination as she spoke, "That's all fine and dandy, Daryl, but the fact of the matter is: _you_ had contact with him, _you_ conducted business within _this_ company with him, it doesn't matter if it was ten years ago or ten _days_ before the incident, you will be needed for parts of this case. Or you can pack your bags and move on, it's up to you."

Daryl narrowed his eyes, biting his tongue so hard, he thought he might make himself bleed. He slowly responded, forcing himself to restrain from yelling, "Now yer gonna threaten my _job_ with this shit?"

Andrea's smile faded and she raised her eyebrows at him, closely resembling a mother who was disciplining her child. "No, I'm not threatening. _Gregory_ , however, is _relying_ on you… If this case gets enough momentum, it could end up taking _your_ job and everyone else's above you. You're only fucking yourself over."

Daryl took in her words and let them register in his mind, wondering if she was bluffing at the brevity of this case or if she was actually being honest and trying to do her job. But then why wasn't Gregory talking to him about it? Why was this case suddenly such a huge deal when the guys had been talking about it as if it'd be another open-and-shut kind of deal for the last few months?

"What would my participation make any damn difference? Huh? You gonna get me to talk shit 'bout the guy, lie and say he was an incompetent asshole and it wasn't none of our damn fault?" Daryl asked, arms still crossed tightly across his chest. "Far as I see it, we owe the guy a little fer somethin' that was obviously our fault. Not mine, personally, but I know somebody fucked up, an' they fucked up big."

He was staring her down now, leaning his head just slightly forward, eyes bored into hers and narrowed, as he asked her his last question clearly and with deeper sincerity, "You really think y'can convince the court that we weren't at fault, not even in the slightest?" He knew she was manipulative, and obviously a good liar, but did she really think she was good enough to get him to lie _for_ her?

She appeared unaffected by his words and their intensity, replying instead with, "Yes. And you're going to sign those papers, say what we need you to say when it comes time, sign a couple more papers, and continue about your normal duties. Or you might wanna tell your little intern to start looking for a new job."

Daryl couldn't immediately reply, because if he did, it would've been yelling, and he would've lost his temper on Andrea. He stopped himself, contained his anger, and took a deep breath. He turned around for a moment to glance at the papers he'd very recently been faxed, sitting in the corner of his desk, untouched. He'd read them over but had refused to sign. However, he realized he may have no choice now. He turned back and looked at Andrea again, a bit softer this time. He let out an audible sigh.

"What would Gregory even fire me for? Honestly," he asked, looking at her and hoping for a straight and human answer.

She cocked an eyebrow and said, quietly, "He already _talked_ to you yesterday. You're on thin ice. Do you really need any more reasons, Daryl?"

He looked away from her, down at the carpet instead. His hands were fists hidden beneath his arms. The fire inside him raged at the mention of Gregory's talk from the day before. And not just that, but the fact that his boss had felt it necessary to disclose this information to an attorney from outside the company – it was like they were both sitting back, laughing at Daryl, and it angered him even more. But it also reminded him that he had to calm himself, to open his eyes and really look at the situation in a big picture sense – was fighting something like this really worth what it could cost him? He turned again to the papers, then heard Andrea speak, in the same quiet voice.

"Just sign the damn papers so I can move on with my day."

He reached over and snatched the documents up furiously, turning around so he was facing the desk and slamming the papers back down in front of him. He grabbed the nearest pen and scrawled his name, as sloppily as possible, across the line at the bottom, then flicked through to another couple of pages and signed those as well.

When he was finished, he couldn't help but feel like he'd just sold his soul… and Andrea was the devil who'd bought it.

* * *

Saturday morning arrived quietly. Daryl awoke shortly before four a.m. He had come home the night before and eaten dinner before collapsing into bed and passing out almost immediately. The entire week had worn him out, and now it was time for him to recharge his batteries out in the wild, where he could enjoy peace and quiet and the privacy of his own land. He could finally set aside the dread-inducing sound of Andrea's voice, the sneer that was always on Gregory's face, that damned office smell that was always stuck in Daryl's nose. He was most excited to smell the outdoors again, and feel the peace that came only from being miles and miles outside of the city.

He went about his usual morning ritual, showering and brushing his teeth and getting dressed. The only differences today were that he skipped shaving – his five o'clock shadow was stubbly on his face but he couldn't bring himself to care today – and he didn't dress himself in one of the expensive suits that hung in his closet. No, today he pulled out some old jeans, a faded tee with the sleeves cut off, and his favorite boots. He dressed with ease and once he glanced himself in the mirror on the way out of the bedroom, he realized he felt more like himself now than he had all week.

He then headed into the kitchen, where the coffee he'd had scheduled to brew was sitting and waiting for him, steaming and sending the aroma all over the small apartment. He sipped the bitter, dark beverage as he moved around the kitchen, cooking himself a simple breakfast of eggs and toast while also preparing a few sandwiches to pack up for later in the day. A new 20-pack of beer sat in the fridge, waiting to be loaded up into the cooler and taken out to Senoia with him.

Once he'd eaten and packed the cooler for the day, setting it by the door, he poured the last of the coffee into his mug and wandered across the kitchen to the balcony door. He slid the glass aside and stepped out onto the balcony, city of Atlanta spread out below him. He lived on the twelfth floor of his large apartment building, where he could look down at the early morning Saturday settling over the metallic city. The numerous tall buildings were speckled with darkened windows and illuminated squares. Daryl pulled out a cigarette from the pack he had in his pocket and lit it, then held it between his fingers while his mug of coffee rested in the other hand.

The air was still cool and there was a light breeze that ruffled Daryl's dark hair around on his head. It was nearly 4:30 a.m. and cars were still rolling up and down the streets, stopping at intersections, and some people were waiting at bus stops or walking to work. He felt bad for them for a second as he inhaled a deep breath of the outside air. It was almost refreshing, but there was still that scent of city life on the wind.

He sipped his warm coffee and gazed out at the dark buildings and car headlights, reveling in his small moment of solitude. This was his favorite part of living in this particular apartment – the balcony. However small it may be, it still gave him a better view than he could find anywhere else. And he could still stand here, smoking a cigarette and drinking coffee, and look down to see everyone made much smaller and more insignificant. It cleared his head, for the most part.

As he gazed out onto the streets below and took a long drag from his half-burnt cigarette, he suddenly wondered what Beth was doing. Was she waking up this early? Nah, she was probably sleeping in, next to Zach, maybe rolling around with him between the sheets…

 _Why do I care?_ He reminded himself, shaking his head and scoffing at himself.

He drained the mug of the last drops of coffee, then inhaled one last drag from the cigarette before putting it out in the ashtray beside the door. He turned his back on the view of Atlanta and headed inside to grab the cooler and his keys and hit the road.

With the cooler and fishing poles in the backseat of his Cadillac (he'd brought another pole just in case Beth _did_ somehow forget hers), Daryl drove through Atlanta in the direction of Senoia. He would've preferred to take his bike, especially in such perfect weather, but he had too much to haul along with him. He stopped at a bait shop before he left the city, buying a couple of cups full of live worms. In the hour it took him to drive to his cabin, the sun had decided to peek above the horizon and begin making the sky pink. He'd almost forgotten just how early the sun came up in the summertime, and hoped the fish would stay active enough to occupy the first part of dawn.

At the cabin, he parked near the road and hauled his cooler and fishing poles across the dew-sprinkled grass to the front door. The inside was silent and still, and a light layer of dust was beginning to settle over surfaces. The last time he'd been here was last weekend, and it was evident in the appearance of things. However, it looked considerably better than it had before Daryl had cleaned it up and inhabited it. He was the tiniest bit excited to see what Beth would say when she saw it.

The crickets were still chirping when he trekked across the grass and dirt patches, through trees, between huge bushes, and finally to a clearing where the trees and greenery opened up to a wide field. A large pond sat nestled in the middle of the clearing, numerous plants growing all along the edge and in the water. The sky was light enough that Daryl could see everything clearly, though the sun wasn't above the horizon yet or blazing down on him. He had, of course, packed sunscreen and sunglasses in preparation for later in the day.

He had lugged along two fold-out chairs and his tackle box from the cabin, as well as his cooler and poles. He gazed around the pond and assessed it from a distance, trying to remember the close-up details from the last couple of weekends when he'd come out and explored. He spotted the best area at the eastern corner and set down the chairs, cooler, and tackle box. When he'd freed himself of his luggage, he stretched his arms out and towards the sky, taking in a deep breath of the _real_ outside air. It filled him with an energy that he couldn't seem to find inside the city limits of Atlanta, and suddenly, the day felt hopeful and full of potential. He smiled to himself and gazed around at the nature that surrounded him. The crickets were dying down and more birds were beginning to speak up, perky and urgent. The sound of a small _splash_ made Daryl whip his head around to look at the surface of the pond, where he saw ripples in the water not far from where he'd planned on casting. Before he'd looked away, another fish made contact with the surface, its shiny head barely emerging from the water as it gulped down its breakfast. At the same time, from the corner of his eye, he saw a turtle pop above the surface and look around for a second before disappearing below again.

The excitement sparked inside him and he eagerly grabbed his pole and a cup of worms, sitting down in one of the chairs and carefully choosing a hook before tying it to the line and sliding the bait onto it. He stood and approached the pond a bit closer, boot toes just short of the water's edge, then cast his line out into the water. He managed to make it to nearly the middle of the small body of water, and as his bait _plopp_ ed into the water, a handful more fish stirred at the surface, causing ripples everywhere. He reeled in just a few inches, then let the bait dangle in the water as he waited for that familiar tug on his line.

Cricket chirps were becoming few and far between, and the sun's rays were emerging from behind the horizon now. Daryl looked off in the direction of the Greene Farm house, imagining he could see it from this impossible distance. He sighed to himself and pulled out a cigarette as he watched his pole rested in the chair closely. Once he'd had it lit and in his mouth, he reached over and grabbed a beer from the cooler. The tab of the can puncturing the lid made a _pop_ ping sound that echoed off the trees around the clearing, and Daryl took a long swig of beer as he relished in the complete solitude.

Now _this_ was how to spend a Saturday in the summer.

* * *

The day had grown hot and humid rather quickly, and by mid-afternoon, Daryl's skin was dripping with sweat as he sat in his fold-out chair, pole held loosely in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He'd smoked nearly a pack already, but that's why he always brought extras. He'd already eaten his lunch of sandwiches and downed almost ten beers, and now he was strongly debating cooking up and eating one of the fish he'd caught for supper.

He glanced at the sun's positioning in the sky and suddenly realized it was getting close to dusk. He had gotten so caught up in enjoying nature and fishing, he hadn't even thought about Beth and Zach in hours. He realized it must be getting close to their arrival now, although there was always a possibility that they wouldn't show. Either way, he didn't think he'd really mind. It was already a successful day, in his eyes.

The cicadas were beginning to make the trees come alive with shrill, constant screams, and Daryl could hear at least a dozen frogs making their presence known from somewhere nearby. He'd begun noticing how many mosquitos were landing on him, so he set his pole down carefully in the chair and grabbed the can of bug repellent he'd brought, misting it over his exposed arms and neck. He nearly dropped the can in surprise, though, when he heard his name being called from somewhere behind him.

"Daryl!" He spun around and tossed the bug repellent aside, gazing across the clearing towards the trees, where he saw two figures emerging. He waved in their direction to signal his acknowledgement and saw Beth step close enough now that her shadow emerged from beneath the trees and her blonde hair caught some of the sun that was shining from just above the horizon. He suddenly felt a lightness in his chest. He was caught off-guard by their appearance; he had thought he would've heard Zach's vehicle pulling up to the cabin, even from this distance, but he hadn't been able to hear anything over the cicadas.

The pair were trekking their way through the tall grass to reach the clearing, picking up speed once they'd gotten past the most difficult terrain. They were close enough now that Daryl could see the wide smile on Beth's face. He could also see the boy beside her – dark hair, maybe six inches taller than Beth, and pretty scrawny, just like Daryl had assumed. This kid wasn't wearing a very happy face either, but when he saw the older man staring him down, he put on a smile and waved kindly. Daryl quickly noticed that Beth was hauling a backpack along as well as two fishing poles, while Zach had nothing in his hands except an open beer.

He guessed by the position of the sun that it was getting close to seven in the evening. But he was kind of surprised that they'd shown up at all. He wondered where they'd been all day or what they'd been doing, but decided not to ask. When they finally approached him, Daryl could see that Zach was about a year or two older than Beth, and his eyes seemed to be studying the older man curiously. The young couple were dressed in summer clothes: Zach in swimming trunks, tennis shoes, and a black tee, while Beth wore a white halter top that exposed her pale white midriff, cut-off jean shorts, and flip-flops. Daryl could see the strings of her bikini top tied around her neck beneath the halter top and wondered for a second if the couple were planning on doing some swimming.

"Glad ya could make it," Daryl said, lifting his hand in a casual greeting to them both but mostly speaking to Beth. "Been quiet 'round here."

"I thought you liked it like that," Beth commented as she set her things down carefully and stretched from the strain of carrying it all.

Daryl shrugged. "'Course I do. But as long as ya ain't too noisy, maybe ya won't scare the fish away."

Beth chuckled then quickly turned to Zach as if she'd just remembered he was there. "Oh, Daryl, this is Zach. Zach, this is Daryl."

She introduced the two men to each other and Daryl immediately held a hand out in offering. Zach hesitantly took it and shook the older man's hand, wincing back when Daryl squeezed just a little harder than he'd meant to.

"Nice t'meet ya," he said in his low growl of a voice, unable to keep himself from being just the smallest bit guarded around strangers. He stared into the younger man's dark eyes. Zach was just a few inches shorter than him, but he obviously didn't do much outside of Atlanta. Daryl wondered, by the looks of him, if he'd ever worked a day in his life.

"You, too," Zach said, forcing a smile before turning away to set aside his empty beer can.

Beth smiled at the exchange and glanced at Daryl's fishing pole that was resting in the chair, line leading out into the water. It sat still as a statue. "Caught anything good yet?"

Daryl gestured to the rope lying near the water, attached to a series of hooks that rested in the shallow water. Four decent-sized fish swam in place from where they were stuck on the hooks. Beth looked a bit surprised, but nodded and smiled pleasantly.

"Wow, not bad," she remarked. "Saw the extra pole in yer backseat. Did y'bring that for me?"

The sunlight caught the blue in her eyes and they sparkled, her smile knowing as she waited for Daryl to answer. He glanced over at Zach, who seemed to be occupying himself with digging out the bottles and cans of alcohol that were stashed in the backpack. He looked back to Beth and smirked, but shook his head sheepishly.

"Nah, that's my back-up pole," he lied, refusing to make eye contact. "Never know what could happen."

Beth grinned but she caught herself and pursed her lips, suppressing it. She turned back to help Zach while Daryl awkwardly walked back to his pole resting in the chair, picking it up and having a seat. He could hear the young couple talking in quiet voices, discussing the contents of the bag, then Zach approached where Daryl sat and plopped himself down in the other chair, which had been already set out beside Daryl's. Although he hadn't exactly intended for Zach to use it…

The younger man let out a sigh, as though he'd just put in a hard day's work and was finally relaxing. Daryl glanced behind him to see Beth looking around, can of beer in her hand, apparently searching for something.

"Ya got any more chairs or just the one?" She finally asked, looking over to find Daryl watching her.

He avoided looking at Zach because he knew he'd scowl, so he kept his eyes on the blonde and replied, "Prince Charming here could drag out one o' the chairs from back in the cabin."

Zach looked at Daryl with confusion, then glanced back at Beth, who was already making her way across the clearing and into the trees toward the cabin to grab her own chair, as if it were no big deal. He said to Daryl, "She's a big girl, she can handle it."

Daryl had to restrain himself from literally rolling his eyes. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd wanted to do that. "Ain't the point. She shouldn't hafta."

Zach didn't seem to have anything to say to that, and they sat in silence for a few moments. When Daryl realized Beth was going to be gone at least a few more minutes, he decided to try to be nice to Zach – if for nothing else, then for the sake of being nice to Beth after everything she'd had to endure in the past week. He hadn't forgotten, that was for sure – he was just trying to push it out of his head. But he knew he owed her, in one way or another.

He spoke up without turning his head, eyes fixated on his line in the water, "So, uh, you in college, too?"

He saw Zach nodding from the corner of his eye, and the younger man replied, "Yeah, I'll be a senior in the fall."

"Cool," Daryl grunted. "Same place as Beth?"

"Nah, I go to Oglethorpe."

Daryl didn't know much about the colleges around Georgia, but he knew Oglethorpe because it was in Atlanta, and he knew that every person he'd ever met who'd gone there had been people that he'd discovered to be insufferable. He didn't ask because he really didn't care and didn't want the kid to start going into a story about his "10 year plan" or something, but he assumed he was probably going for some useless degree that he'd never find an actual job for. But then maybe he was only going to make his parents happy. Daryl could only assume.

"Y'doin' any internships or shit like that this summer?" Daryl continued, only asking because it would tell him whether the kid had a job or not.

He saw the look of utter contentment on Zach's face as he answered, "Nope. My parents have a trust, I'm pretty set. 'Sides, summer's fer partyin' and making bad choices."

Before Daryl could ask exactly what he meant, Beth returned, seemingly out of nowhere, with one of the folding chairs from the cabin's small kitchen. She was breathing heavily from the strain, but she was smiling broadly nonetheless as she set her chair down next to Zach's and situated it to be sturdy. She seemed to be used to having to do everything for herself, and didn't even give it a second thought anymore.

"Wow, it looks totally different in that cabin," she commented happily, walking around and gathering the two poles she'd brought.

"Yeah, cleaned it up pretty good," Daryl said, watching as she bustled around, helping herself to his open tacklebox to retrieve hooks, then to the cooler to retrieve worms and bait the books of both poles. "I'll have t'give ya the guys the tour later."

Zach sipped his beer and looked over at Daryl, smirking. "Isn't it just a one-bedroom cabin? What, like fifty square feet? We could stand in one spot and get the tour."

Daryl narrowed his eyes but kept them staring straight ahead, where he could still see his line resting in the water. "Yup, s'pose so."

Beth chuckled from where she sat a few feet behind the men, but it sounded tense. He began to wonder what she'd told Zach about him – or _if_ she'd told him _anything_ about him.

 _What am I expecting her to have told him anyway?_ He thought. _She don't know nothin' about me._

Beth joined the men again, holding out one of the poles – hooked and baited – to Zach, who took it eagerly, before sitting herself down in her chair. She had her own pole in hand, and had grabbed a beer from the cooler that she _pop_ ped open and took a hearty sip from before setting it down and casting her line. Daryl watched it fly out across the pond, landing in the water with a _plop_ just a few feet to the left of where his own had landed.

"Good cast," Daryl muttered, surprising himself with the vocalized thought. He glanced over to see the blonde smiling at him proudly.

"Thanks," she replied, reeling in just a bit before looking to Zach.

He cast out his own line, but it barely reached halfway to Beth's. However, no one said anything, and Zach slowly reeled his line in before letting it rest. Daryl figured there were probably just as many fish in the shallow areas, too, and he kept his comments – helpful or otherwise – to himself.

The three of them sat in silence, each sipping their own beer while occasionally reeling in their lines. It was usually to pull in nothing but an empty hook, or a half-eaten worm, but a couple of times, it was a fish. There were a few crappie, no bigger than Zach's hand, and one or two catfish that couldn't have weighed more than three pounds each.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon and the sky darkened, the empty beer cans multiplied, and the fish began biting everything in sight to the point that the trio's lines were almost constantly being tugged on. Beth was beginning to get frustrated at how many small carp she was reeling in, and by the fifth one, she was chucking them back into the water with a heavy hand. Zach had switched to the fake bait from Daryl's tacklebox, and it seemed to have caused him to begin catching nothing but bluegills. Daryl, on the other hand, had caught just a couple decent-sized catfish and happily added them to his collection.

They hadn't really talked this whole time, passing at least an hour in silence until the sun was hidden and stars were popping into the sky one at a time. However, during the lack of conversation, they had ingested plenty of beer – and probably harder alcohol, when it came to Zach. Every few minutes, one of them would curse at a robbed hook, or comment on another's catch. But other than that, the only sounds around them were the normal sounds of dusk and their lips drinking thirstily.

Daryl was beginning to think he could get used to this – just being in the presence of others without the obligation to socialize. Not to mention, Zach was beginning to seem like a pretty decent kid (especially when he was quiet). He was thinking that maybe he'd judged him too soon, without ever having spent any time in his company. Yeah, maybe he had seemed lazy at first, but the kid kept his hands off of Beth for the most part, he would only peck her on the lips, and when she'd tried to strip off her halter top because of the heat, he'd urged her to keep it on until it got a little darker. Sure, it was the smallest bit strange, but maybe the kid was actually really respectable and modest. Daryl could understand that, and he could certainly appreciate it. That was probably a girl like Beth's type anyway, right? She and her daddy were "godly" people – her whole family was much more respectable than Daryl had ever been or ever could be, so of course they had higher standards.

Things in the pond had calmed down as the sky got darker. More stars were making their appearance in the blackness and the moon was shining down, bright but waning. Daryl reeled in his line after feeling a tug, but found nothing more than an empty hook on the end. He let out a sigh and looked over to see Beth reeling in her own line with the same disappointing results. He watched her silently as she set the pole down on the ground and stood up, stretching her arms toward the sky. She seemed to be done with fishing as she walked over to her backpack and rifled around inside, pulling out something black and oval.

"Let's put on some music, babe," Zach said, eyes still watching the water in drunken concentration.

"That's jus' what I was thinkin'," she answered.

Beth glanced back and caught Daryl's eye, realizing he was watching her, and he quickly looked away. He put his half-empty beer can to his lips and drained the rest of it down his throat in an effort to excuse himself. As he was crushing the empty can in his hand, he saw her grabbing her phone and fiddling with it for a moment, then soft music began playing from the oval-shaped object in her hand. Daryl realized it was a Bluetooth speaker, and she set it down on the ground near the bag, turning up the volume until the music bounced off the surrounding trees. He attached the empty hook on his pole to the line itself and set it aside, deciding it was time to give up on fishing now that the music would definitely scare any potential fish away.

He pulled out a cigarette and stood up, and that's when all the beers he'd downed finally caught up with him. His head was light and he felt carefree and relaxed, but he also had to piss like a racehorse.

Zach took the cue from Beth and Daryl and reeled in his own empty line, setting the pole aside with Beth's and grabbing another beer from the cooler. Daryl had lost count, but he was sure the kid had to be on his eighth beer or so, and who knew how many he'd had before arriving. It was good that he'd brought his own, because they'd already blown through the 20-pack Daryl had brought.

"'M gonna take a piss," Daryl announced, his voice scratchy from barely speaking all day. Zach and Beth looked up from where they were standing by the cooler and nodded in acknowledgement, then returned to their hushed exchange, beers in their hands. Daryl tried not to notice, but he couldn't remember a time when he'd seen Beth smiling so brightly – and Zach's free hand was squeezing her arm affectionately as he basked in the glow that radiated from the blonde.

Daryl turned around and put his head down, watching his step closely and taking drags off his cigarette as he walked off into the taller weeds around the side of the pond. He walked until he couldn't hear their voices or their quiet laughter, tossing his cigarette butt and huddling between overgrown stalks of grass and bunches of weeds. Emptying his bladder gave him so much relief, he audibly breathed out in gratification and lifted his face towards the sky. He stared up at the dark blanket above him, the speckled stars, the glowing moon. His eyes were having a bit of trouble focusing, but he hadn't forgotten the bottle he had stashed in his cabin that seemed to be calling his name right now.

As he zipped his jeans back up, he wondered when Beth and Zach were planning on leaving – and how. Surely that kid couldn't drive in his current state, even if it was only to Beth's house. Would Daryl have to let them stay the night? He sure wasn't in any state to drive them anywhere. And he _had_ condoned the underage drinking, but damn… How was he supposed to know that dumb college kid wouldn't have a DD? He hadn't anticipated sharing his personal space for the entire night. Maybe he could get away with trying to feed them and sober them up before pushing them out?

When he walked back around the pond to where Beth and Zach had been, he found the speaker still blasting music and Beth's phone sitting unattended in her empty chair. He looked around for a moment, but couldn't see very far in the dark. Then he spotted a beam of light from nearby, on the other side of the pond opposite of where he'd gone to relieve himself. He began walking around the pond to get closer to it, and as he did, he heard the sounds of splashing and laughter. His pace quickened until he could see a flashlight perched on a small hill in the ground, shining toward the pond. He turned in the direction it was shining to see the water stirring, and after he stared for a second, pale skin appeared in the beam of light, rising from the water and falling back down into it. Then he heard the clear sound of Beth's laughter, quickly followed by loud whispers.

"Shit – he's back – "

"He is? Where?"

"He's standin' right there – "

More splashing, and the sounds of two people wading through water, then Beth appeared in the light, swimming close enough to the edge of the pond that Daryl could finally see her. Zach was in tow, and they were both stripped down to bathing suits, apparently having a little night swim. They waded up closer and stood up when they were close enough, feet still submerged in the shallow part of the water right before the mud and grass began. Beth grinned, her face lit up with a drunken glow and dripping, blonde hair plastered to her neck. Daryl maintained eye contact with her bright blue eyes, even though his peripherals were burning at the sight of all her bare skin – more of her than he'd ever seen. Her bikini was a strappy two-piece, but he wouldn't have been able to tell you whether it was decorated with pink anchors or blue flowers, even while it was right in front of him. All he knew was that the beers were really going to his brain now, and he started to get a _weird_ feeling as Beth stepped closer, so he took a step back, as if he needed air.

"Wanna swim? Water feels perfect," Beth grinned, more excitement on her face than he could remember ever seeing. From the looks and sounds of it, the beers had really gone to her brain, too.

She took a step toward him and he moved again to step back, confused as to why she was approaching him. His heel caught a rock and he nearly stumbled, but caught his balance, only to look up and realize she'd been reaching for the two open beers that sat rested on the ground near where he'd been standing. He was relieved to see that she hadn't noticed his fumble, but he looked over to see Zach had been watching him the whole time. Luckily, the younger man was quickly distracted by Beth handing him his beer, and then she turned back to Daryl, still awaiting his response.

"Ah – nah," he found his voice, shaking his head and trying to play off his tipsiness. "Didn't bring m'bathin' suit."

Beth laughed as if he'd told a joke, and he supposed that he kind of did, but not a joke that required a laugh like that.

Zach piped in, "Go in yer boxers. It's dark out, man, I won't tell nobody if ya wear tighty whities."

He laughed at his own joke and Beth snorted, but she quickly slapped him on the arm playfully and scolded him, "Hey!"

He shrugged it off and Daryl shook his head, half-smiling. If he'd had a few more drinks, he thought he might've given in and forgotten about his silent insecurities. A night swim sounded amazing to him, to be honest. But that would be exposing his back, and if Beth saw, he knew he'd get her interrogation, in one way or another; whether it be tonight or three weeks from now, she'd keep questioning him and he'd have to end up telling her the pathetic story. And that was something he really didn't _ever_ want to tell her - especially since he had to work with her for the rest of the summer.

"Maybe next time. I ain't the best swimmer, and it's dark. Dunno if y'all wanna perform CPR on me."

It was meant to be a joke to divert them away from pressuring him to swim, but it elicited a scowl from Zach, whether intentional or not. Beth, however, giggled and countered with, "I don't believe that. You're prob'ly a really good swimmer. Don't lie."

He stared her directly in the eyes, trying not to think about how her smile made him inexplicably happy for some reason. "Yer right. I jus' don't want to."

She didn't stop smiling, but nodded in understanding, then turned back to Zach to push him back out towards the water. She urged him along, both of them laughing and splashing each other as they found their way back out to the deeper water. Daryl watched as she walked away from him again, and his eyes drifted to something that caught his attention on Beth's lower back: a tattoo. He couldn't make it out clearly from where he stood and with so little light, but it looked like a small symbol on a part of her lower back that was easy to cover. He was surprised – he never would've thought Hershel would allow her to do something like that, or at least not while she still lived with him.

He smirked to himself and pulled out another cigarette, lighting it up and taking a long drag. He leisurely walked to the cooler to retrieve another beer only to discover that there were none left. Which meant the party was basically over for him, and definitely for the other two. He walked back over to where the flashlight was perched and stood next to it, smoking his cigarette in peace and letting the kids enjoy their swim before he crashed the party.

He watched the young couple splash and goof around in the water, Beth occasionally letting out a squeal when she felt a fish swim by and Zach always taking advantage of her fear by diving down and tickling her feet. Daryl felt a twinge of jealousy, and he found himself exhaling cigarette smoke as well as flashes of old memories with Andrea.

He took in a long drag, cigarette burning down just short of the butt, and inhaled the smoke, letting it settle in his lungs. He closed his eyes and soaked it in, let it sit inside him like the pain he'd held for five years, poisoning him. Laughter and splashing echoed around him, and he remembered that he'd had what they had at one time… a long time ago, it felt like. A lifetime. He'd had that, too, he'd felt that spark and that excitement, that light-headed-but-sober rush. The up and down spikes, hot and cold, that feeling of having all your insides put in a blender on high. And that peaceful feeling, like being home when one particular person was around, like knowing exactly where you were in every part of someone else.

He exhaled the smoke, his lungs screaming at him for their abuse. He tossed the butt aside and rubbed his forearm absent-mindedly. He felt the bit of raised skin, the scaly patch, knew the red spot that was there and the scarred tissue. That was a reminder, too. He shrugged it all off and stepped forward, closer to the water. He whistled loudly until Beth and Zach had gone quiet and he could just barely see their faces watching him expectantly.

"Outta beer. Think it's time t'head back and make dinner," he called out to them. "Y'all hungry?"

He watched Zach shove Beth back into the water in playful excitement and rush toward land. Beth squealed in surprise and splashed into the water, but regained her composure quickly and was soon emerging from the water on Zach's heels. When they'd both reached the flashlight, she pushed Zach playfully, muttering with a smile, "Asshole."

Daryl shook his head at the two of them and turned back to gather up his things from their fishing spot. They put their clothes on over their wet bathing suits and began gathering their own things, helping him clear everything away from the pond. Daryl pulled his line of fish from the water and threw it over his shoulder, not caring whether the smell ever came out of his shirt – he could buy a hundred more, after all. Once they'd collected everything they brought, the three of them began their trek back to the cabin.

Daryl had left the porch light on, and it shone like a beacon in the surprisingly dark night. This far out in the country, there weren't any streetlights, and the lights of the city were only visible in the far-off distance, so the darkness seemed to swallow everything. Stars speckled the black sky but offered little light, and the moon was in a dim phase. He spotted an unfamiliar vehicle parked in the grass next to his Cadillac – Zach's truck. It was an early 2000s, beaten-up, red Ford, still covered in mud from the last storm and probably the last time Zach had taken it mudding. Daryl wondered who'd bought it for him, and how much better it had looked before he'd gotten his hands on it.

"Oooh, time fer the tour?" Beth said excitedly as they walked up the small set of steps to the porch of the cabin, and when Daryl looked at her, he saw her face lit up with a smile.

He smiled back, "Yeah, the _stand-still_ tour."

He looked to Zach, still smiling but almost taunting at the same time. Zach smirked back, lacking a comment, and they stepped inside the cabin as Daryl swung the door open wide for all of them. He allowed the other two to step in first, then followed closely behind so he could set down the cooler, tacklebox, chair, and pole next to the door and flip on the lightswitch. Thankfully Zach had carried his weight this time and held the other chairs on the trek back, which he set down inside the cabin.

The light turned on above them and flooded the small cabin with light, illuminating all the shapes and silhouettes and revealing their details. The front door opened up to a small living space, which held a small, worn couch and chair around a coffee table, all placed in front of a fireplace. To the right was a tiny kitchen area with minimal counter space, a basic stove and oven, fridge, and sink. Across from the kitchen, in the back right corner of the cabin, was a tiny bathroom, closed off by walls and a door, only big enough to hold a toilet, small sink, and a single stall shower. And finally, across from the bathroom and next to the living space, unseparated by walls, sat a full-sized bed and a nightstand. The entire cabin had dark brown wood floors, a couple of rugs laid out by the bed and beneath the coffee table, and the walls were polished wood nearly matching the floors.

"Wow, guess I was right," Zach commented as he stood in the middle of the cabin and looked around smugly, hands on his hips.

But Daryl was looking at Beth, who was gazing around the cabin in adoration. The whole place couldn't have been more than five-hundred square feet, but she was turning and looking at every inch as though it were a museum.

"Wow, I only glanced at it earlier, but you really did some work in here," she marveled, beginning to walk around and run her fingers along the mantel, then over to the wall between the living space and bedroom area to where a dartboard was hung. "You play darts?"

Daryl shrugged as Beth looked back at him and replied, "A little. Just somethin' t'pass the time."

"Darts is cool, but pool is better," Zach remarked, plopping himself down in the chair that sat in the living space.

"Whatever, pool is dumb," Beth argued, and Daryl took his cue to walk away as the two began to playfully bicker about bar games.

He started working in the kitchen, putting the nearly-dead fish in the sink and retrieving his knives. He listened absent-mindedly to the two kids talking behind him as he focused on cleaning the fish and preparing them for cooking. He already had his pans and cooking tools set out and ready, and his mouth was beginning to water, even with his hands still covered in fish guts. The sandwiches he'd had for lunch felt like forever ago, and his stomach was making ravenous sounds that beer was unable to satiate.

"Hey, man, can I bum a smoke?"

Zach's voice surprised Daryl, and he jumped just a bit and turned around to find the young man standing right behind him, having approached without Daryl realizing it. He looked expectant, and Daryl reached into his pocket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes.

"Sure, here ya go," he said, pulling one out and handing it over.

Zach took it gratefully and smiled, nodding at the older man, "Thanks. We're gonna step outside fer a minute."

He only nodded and watched as Zach put the cigarette between his lips, then walked back over to Beth and grabbed her hand as she willingly followed him out the door and onto the porch. He shut the door and Daryl was alone in the cabin once again, nothing but the sound of the sizzling fish echoing off the walls.

There was a small window just above the counter that sat next to the front door, and it gave a limited view of the porch. Daryl turned the stovetop to a lower heat and stepped away, staying out of sight of the window from outside while reaching over and sliding it open only an inch or two, slowly and silently. Some of the smoke from cooking drifted out through the open space, and the cool night air gradually drifted inside. He stepped back to the stove, but listened closely to the sound of voices that was also drifting in through the gap between the window and sill.

The sizzling of the fish became quieter, and he could finally make out the voices, soft at first but slowly rising in volume. The conversation came in bits and pieces while it was still too quiet to hear clearly.

"- 's'get outta here… don't gotta… just us…"

"- I dunno, I… not here, maybe… my dad… already told him…"

Zach's voice had been calm and soothing, pleading even, but it was becoming quickly irritated.

"C'mon, Beth… we can sneak out to the truck, he won't even notice… he'll prob'ly pass out soon as he eats that fish, he's old."

Beth's voice seemed to raise an octave in response. "He's not _that_ old, Zach. I told you, my dad's expectin' me back tonight, he told me I couldn't stay out all night, and you need to eat an' sober up 'fore you drive anywhere."

Zach sighed, exasperated. "We coulda done it in the pond, but yer too prude fer that, too – what, ya too good fer my truck now? Like we haven't done it in there before…"

"Shhh, can you talk any fuckin' quieter about our _sex_ life, _please_?" Beth was speaking in a hissed whisper now. "It's not appropriate, okay? It don't make me a prude t'say no _one time_ , can't you wait until tomorrow?"

Daryl glanced over for a peek of the couple's body language and saw Zach's back through the window, one hand leaning against the wall as he practically hunched over Beth, cigarette dangling, lit, from his fingers.

"Tomorrow? Y'mean _holy_ Sunday, the _Lord's Day_ , yer precious church time? I never see you on Sundays."

Beth sighed and sounded tired. "I get caught up with my family. I'm sorry. I'll make _sure_ this time, y'can pick me up after church, we can spend the whole day at yer house, if you want. Just not tonight, okay?"

"I just really don't see why not tonight… I mean, y'wore that bikini 'cause you knew I liked it, didn't ya? …Or was it 'cause yer _boss_ likes it, too?"

There was complete silence for a moment, and Daryl wasn't sure if he'd heard correctly. He pricked his ears up and listened harder for Beth's response, hoping he'd misheard what Zach had just said.

" _What?_ What're you talkin' about?" Beth asked, back to hissing, her voice sharper.

Zach audibly scoffed, and Daryl saw him shift his weight from one foot to the other. "Oh, please… you think I'm blind? Or are you just voluntarily ignorant? He paid ya when he didn't have to, put yer desk in his office, shit – he takes y'out to lunch damn near every day. And then tonight? The way he was lookin' at you, _smiling_ at you, tryin' to make _me_ look like the asshole all night?"

Beth's voice was filled with confusion now. "Zach, are you seriously accusing my _boss_ of having a _crush_ on me? What are you, fifteen? Are we in high school right now? Yer making ridiculous assumptions about stuff you don't even understand."

"Oh, fuck off," Zach spat. "Don't play stupid. We coulda done this shit at any other pond on yer daddy's land, but you wanted to come out to _this_ cabin and hang out with _your_ boss. Why'd ya even bring me along?"

Beth's voice became defensive and she didn't seem to care anymore if she was talking loudly. "Because you're my boyfriend, but y'don't even fuckin' _act_ like it! How dare you accuse me of somethin' like that, when I know for a _fact_ the kinda shit _you_ get up to all week while I'm busy working. Sorry I don't live close enough for you, y'can only use me on the weekends! And even that ain't enough for ya, is it? 'Cause here you are, accusing me of hanging out with my boss because he's got some kinda weird _crush_ on me and _that's_ why I won't fuck you _at my boss's cabin_? Does that actually make any sense to you? Like, _AT ALL_?!"

Zach gave a cold, humorless laugh. "Oh, yeah, twist my words around, 'cause _that's_ what I said. You sound so ridiculous right now. I don't even know what kinda shit yer talking about, ' _what I get up to during the week'_ – what d'you think I'm doing?!"

"Hmm, I dunno… let's see your phone. I guess we'll see what yer occupying yourself with during the week."

"Oh, please, don't start that shit. There's nothing in my phone, Beth, I ain't got nothin' t'hide!"

"Really? Then who the fuck is Kaitlin? And Alyssa? I saw yer _fucking_ pictures, and I saw those _fucking texts_ that came up on your screen before you could HIDE it from me – like you _always_ do. God knows how much more there is that I haven't seen, but I don't even want to, because it'll make me _SICK_! If I'm such the liar you say I am, pull your phone out and prove me wrong!"

"Jesus Christ, Beth, that was over a week ago, let it go already. And going through someone's phone is some crazy _shit_ , you know that? Yer invading my privacy, you never even _tried_ to trust me."

Now it was Beth's turn to give a humorless laugh. "I _did_ trust you, I've trusted you the entire time, and that was my mistake. Y'wanna talk about crazy? Yer the one accusing my fuckin' _boss_ of having a crush on me and accusing _me_ of making _you_ the third wheel or some shit."

Daryl dared to glance out the window once more and saw Zach tossing the cigarette butt out into the grass before continuing to argue, using his hands to angrily animate his words now. "I'm not the crazy one fer knowin' what guys really want. Y'think he actually wants you around? He only gave you that internship to make good with yer dad, but yer actin' like he's yer _friend_ or somethin' now. Yer just a summer fling, eye candy, somethin' to break up the monotony of that shitty office job. He invited _you_ out here, not me. But that's okay, jus' wait till he sees what a crazy _bitch_ you are – you'll never hear from him again."

Daryl's blood was boiling beneath his skin, and he wanted nothing more than to walk outside and tell Zach to get off his property and never come back. But he knew it was Beth's personal business, and he wasn't even supposed to be listening in right now, so instead, he resumed angrily turning the fish in the frying pan. His hands were almost shaking from the anger he was suppressing.

"You're such a jackass!" Beth cried, making no effort to be quiet anymore. "It's not even like that and you _know_ it! Some of us want to _do_ somethin' with our lives, and we can't all just live off of mommy and daddy forever. He's willing to teach me things about being in the professional world, and I'm tryin' to learn as much as I can, and if you can't understand that – "

"Like what? You ain't told me a fuckin' thing you've learned all summer. All you ever talk about is him, and the shit he says or what he does. I bet y'never talk about me like that – to _anyone_!"

"You're so full of shit! If I'm such a crazy fucking bitch, then why are you even here? Why don't you lose my number and go date one of the other girls yer always hangin' out with or talking to?! Y'talk about a summer fling but it sounds to me like yer describin' yerself, and our relationship – you're not _staying_ with me past the summer. You can't even stop being a dick for an entire month!"

Daryl saw Beth turn to walk away as Zach grabbed her arm, yanking her back towards him and stopping her from leaving. "Where the fuck d'you think yer going?"

She yanked her arm out of his grasp and gave him a cold stare. Daryl had pulled the cooking fish off the burner and was facing the stove motionless now, head turned toward the window as he watched the scene unfold, his own fists clenched at his sides. He prayed that Beth would make the kid leave before things escalated any more.

"I'm not _going_ anywhere, but I'm not gonna stand here and let you yell in my face and berate me all night," Beth said through clenched teeth, her voice low and chillingly calm. "I'm sorry I don't wanna have sex with you in yer shitty lil' truck outside my boss's cabin, but you've taken this way farther than you needed to. I think we need to sober up and get some sleep before we talk anymore."

Daryl couldn't see Zach's face, but he knew the look that was probably in his eyes right now, and it wasn't good.

"Oh, yeah, nice cop-out, don't have t'answer fer any o' yer shit now, huh? Are you so drunk that ya already fergot _you_ were the one that was jus' yellin' at and berating _me_?!""

"Zach, please. I'm done fighting. Daryl can probably hear us and we're out here makin' a scene. Let's just go eat and sober up and we can leave – "

"Right, don't want yer precious _Daryl_ to hear the truth about you, God forbid – "

Daryl hadn't felt his feet walking, or even realized he'd crossed the distance between him and the door until he was swinging it open. But there he was, standing in the open door, staring at the young couple on his porch, both their faces turned to him in surprise, like deer caught in headlights. Beth looked the tiniest bit frightened, as if she expected Daryl to yell at them both and kick them off his property. But he turned to Zach and glared at the young man, eyes narrowed. His fists were clenched at his sides again and he was forcing himself not to pick the kid up by his scrawny neck and toss him off the porch entirely.

"I think you need to leave," he said, as calmly and clearly as he could manage.

Zach's brows furrowed in confusion. "Yeah, don't worry, we were just about to – "

"No," Daryl interrupted him as he was reaching for Beth's arm again. " _You_ need to leave."

Beth's eyes widened and she looked to Zach to see his reaction. He still looked confused, but his face hardened. "I'm not leaving without Beth."

Daryl gestured to his truck parked in the grass and repeated himself, "You need to leave. Don't worry 'bout her, I'll make sure she gets home safe. She ain't goin' nowhere with you tonight, not in yer state."

Zach looked to Beth, anger flaring in his eyes, then back to Daryl. He seemed to be contemplating whether he should argue or not, and Daryl thought he could see the kid's hands clenching into fists like his, but he wouldn't stop staring into his eyes, silently daring him to do something.

Apparently, the younger man felt like testing his boundaries as he tentatively began to argue back, "I just wanna make sure my girlfriend – "

"Leave now, before I _make_ ya leave," Daryl said in a voice so low it could only be described as a growl. He could feel the knot in his throat growing and tightening, and his fingernails were digging into his palms.

"Cool. You can fuckin' _have_ each other," Zach muttered, almost child-like, looking away from Daryl as he said it and straight at Beth.

Her face fell as she watched Zach stomp off the porch and into the grass, heading straight for his truck. She walked down the steps and stopped, calling after him, "Zach stop! Don't leave, _you know_ it's not – "

"No, he needs to leave," Daryl interrupted her and she spun around to face him.

To his surprise, Beth looked enraged as she stepped back up onto the porch and stood a few feet away from Daryl. "What the _fuck_?!"

He gave her a confused look, glancing over to see Zach's truck starting up, headlights coming on and flooding the yard and dirt road with light. The tires squealed as he took off angrily, racing down the road and sending gravel flying everywhere.

"Excuse me?" Daryl said over the fading rumble of Zach's truck.

"Why did you do that?! He's drunk, and yer makin' him drive all the way back to Atlanta? What if he wrecks, or gets pulled over?!" Beth cried, eyes wild and voice frantic.

"He'll be fine," Daryl assured her, still using his firm but calm voice. "He ain't gonna die, and if he gets pulled over, then good – maybe he'll learn a damn lesson. But he ain't stayin' here no longer, not talkin' t'you like that."

"You listened t'our conversation?" Beth said, and Daryl was just beginning to realize that some of her words were slurred.

"Didn't try to, but couldn't really help it. Y'all were gettin' pretty loud," he explained, even though he felt he didn't need to explain himself considering it was _his_ cabin. "You let him talk t'you like that? Put his goddamn hands on you – "

"He didn't _hit_ me! And I said some mean shit, too, okay? It's called a relationship, you fight sometimes, that's how it works," Beth said, her voice rising angrily with every sentence. "Why couldn't y'jus' mind yer own _business_?! I didn't go gettin' in the middle of you an' Andrea's argument, why'd you think it was okay to get in the middle of mine?! Y'think it's okay to just make my boyfriend leave without me? T'just _throw_ me into shit that I want no part of?! Y'think you can make all my decisions for me, not even care how _I_ might _FUCKING_ _FEEL_ about it?!"

Now it was Daryl's turn to be confused as he furrowed his brow and wondered where this had all come from. Was she really going to use the Andrea thing against him? He already regretted making her _any_ part of it at all, she didn't have to throw it in his face like this. He knew he was in the wrong, and she had him there. But he'd apologized! And he wasn't going to apologize for kicking some jackass kid off his property for being a complete dickhead to Beth – whether he was her boss, her neighbor, or a total stranger. Her anger was obviously pent-up, and she was letting it out on Daryl. He felt like the straw that broke the camel's back as he watched the fire blaze in her wide, blue eyes; tears brimmed in the corners but she was fighting them back fiercely.

He tried to speak calmly and softer than before, never breaking their eye contact. "What're you talkin' about? I wasn't tryin' t'make a decision for you, or – keep ya here against yer will. He was bein' a prick, you can at least admit that. However y'all work is none o' my business, but I ain't gonna have him standin' on my porch, talkin' t'you like that. Alright?"

Beth sniffled, gathering up her anger again as her hands animated every other word she spat out. "No, it's _not_ alright! You-you think – you _ALL_ think you can just tell me what t'do, every day, all the time, volunteer me fer stuff I want nothin' t'do with, tell me what t'do with my whole damn life – I'm an _adult_! I can make my own decisions! I'm _grown_ now, and I don't need other people steppin' all over me or usin' me however they want, I'm not just another fucking _tool_ – "

"Look," Daryl interrupted her, taking a tentative step forward and looking into her wild eyes with what he hoped was sympathy. "I'm sorry – fer draggin' you into the Andrea thing, for anythin' I might've made y'do that you didn't want to. I never meant it. I wasn't thinkin', 'cause I don't think a whole lot. I fucked up, okay? I make mistakes. All the damn time. And I regret 'em, and 'm sorry, Beth…"

Beth stood motionless, lip still trembling with rage and tears still pooled in her eyes. But the flames were receding, and she seemed to be coming back down to realize how badly she'd exploded. Daryl was thankful, though, that it had come out and not stayed in. He knew that exploding every now and then was better than imploding – and he didn't mind being the punching bag once in a while for someone like Beth. He could see, without asking, that there were things built up inside her that she hadn't told him about, not even during one of her rambling conversations at lunch, or one of her many sessions of 21 Questions.

"It's just," she began, voice lowering to a calmer tone as she spoke, still bitter, her muscles visibly relaxing all over her body as she gave up fighting, "Bullshit. It's all jus'… bullshit."

She shook her head and finally tore her eyes away from Daryl's, turning away from him and going back inside the cabin. He watched her go, standing still and lost for a moment.

 _I know,_ he wanted to say.

He finally made his feet move again and walked into the cabin, shutting the door behind him only to find Beth gathering her things together and angrily stuffing them into her bag.

"Can I at least feed ya before y'leave?" He asked, walking over to the stove and placing the fish – cold by now – back onto the burner to heat it up and finish cooking it. "Ya smell like beer, I don't want yer dad to see ya like this when ya roll in. Jus' eat a little and put somethin' in yer stomach… if y'want."

He expected her to refuse and walk out the door, backpack in hand, but after a long silence, he heard her soft voice say, "Fine."

He didn't turn and look at her, focusing instead on the cooking in front of him. He was surprised at how easy it was to convince her to stay and eat, and he wasn't going to screw it up by saying something stupid. Plus, she was beginning to calm down and he didn't want to make her angry again somehow. He seemed to have a knack for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, so he tried to keep his mouth shut in situations like this.

Daryl finished cooking the fish and set out two plates, scooping it onto them in equal rations. He grabbed two forks from the single kitchen drawer and turned to see Beth sitting at the couch in silence, staring down at the phone in her hand. He walked over to her and held out the plate, quickly catching her attention. She reached out and took the plate and fork from him with a shy smile and set it on her lap, digging into the food immediately. Daryl stepped back and took a seat in the chair that sat next to the couch, giving Beth plenty of space.

They ate in silence for at least an entire minute, nothing but the sounds of forks against plates and chewing mouths filling the small space. Then Beth spoke up softly, startling Daryl out of his thoughts.

"Thank you," she said in between bites. "This is really good."

He was surprised to look over and discover at least a third of her portion already gone, and was slightly impressed at how quickly she could put food away. He nodded but didn't say anything, continuing to eat.

Another few minutes passed in silence and Beth seemed to be getting full, lifting her head and watching Daryl curiously before he noticed her eyes on him. Before he could say anything, she spoke again.

"Sorry… fer everything. I shouldn't've brought him tonight, it was my own fault fer thinkin' he'd act mature for a whole day."

Daryl took another bite and shook his head as he chewed, waving away her apology and replying as soon as he'd swallowed, "'S alright. Don't need t'be sorry."

She looked down at her plate awkwardly and he added, off-handedly, "What's yer tattoo s'posed t'be?"

Her eyes widened at this question and she seemed to have forgotten how much skin she had exposed in the light of the flashlight earlier. She met his gaze with guilty eyes.

"It's, uh… just music notes wrapped up with a ribbon. Fer my mom," she explained, and quickly added, "Don't tell my dad, please… He still doesn't know I have it. I don't think he'd be very happy 'bout it."

Daryl couldn't help but smirk and chuckle a little. "Don't worry, I ain't sayin' nothin'. A little ink never killed nobody. 'Sides, yer an adult, it's yer own body, ain't none o' my business - or yer dad's."

Beth appeared relieved. She leaned forward and set her plate, fork resting on top, onto the coffee table, most of the fish gone. She remained perched on the edge of her seat, folding her hands in her lap anxiously. Then she said, quietly, "Can I tell you somethin' else I didn't tell my dad?"

At first, Daryl wanted to say _no_. There was a big difference between spotting her secret tattoo during a night swim and consciously letting her confide in him about a personal matter, and he could already hear Gregory's voice in his head, criticizing him for "crossing boundaries" and "making the wrong kinds of bonds." But the office and all that HR nonsense seemed so far away right now, and the cabin felt so secluded and safe. And the way her face was soft and vulnerable, a little bit pleading toward him, as if she had no one else she could speak to that would _really_ get it... He still felt that he owed her, in a way, for all the distress he'd caused her in the last week. And what could it hurt if he let her confide a little secret in him anyway? It was probably something harmless, knowing her. He couldn't imagine there was anything she could tell him that would be shocking.

Before he could give it a second thought, he found himself nodding, and she was opening her mouth to speak quickly, as if she were evicting the words from her head. "I didn't really miss the deadlines on all the other internships… I-I didn't do 'em on purpose. I lied an' told Daddy that I missed 'em 'cause I was busy with volunteer work, but… I didn't do any volunteering. Or any applications. I couldn't… I dunno. I felt scared."

Though it wasn't exactly what Daryl would call shocking, he was still the tiniest bit surprised at her confession. This was something she obviously hadn't told anyone else, and had been holding in with plenty of guilt. He understood it, but at the same time, it seemed miniscule to him. However, the whole thing put them both in an awkward position: he'd taken her on as a favor to her father, and now it turned out that she'd agreed to it as a favor to her father, too. He wondered why she felt she couldn't tell him. Would Hershel really be that disappointed? He seemed to be a reasonable enough man, and of course the loss of his wife was understandably devastating to the family as a whole, but did she really think he'd rather have his daughter spending the majority of her summer with a stranger in Atlanta, compared to being on the farm and helping out the family? Then again, maybe she hadn't wanted to do that either. From what he'd observed, she spent as much time away from the farm and her family as possible.

"Scared o' what?" He asked quietly, still focusing on the fish in front of him without eating.

Beth appeared to be thinking about her answer, maybe trying to figure out the answer for herself at the same time. She shrugged uncomfortably, eyes still directed downward. "What comes next, I guess… I'm afraid I'll waste my life and before I know it, it'll be over. I'm afraid Daddy'll die before we can make him happy again. I just… wish I could be stronger. Fer everyone, fer all the stuff I'm s'posed t'carry."

Daryl sat back, stunned to silence. The girl was having an existential crisis and she wasn't even of drinking age yet. He wanted to offer advice, but who'd listen to him? He hadn't really given her much reason to respect him, but her face was so morose and his stomach was turning – not from the fish but from something else he couldn't identify.

"You are strong. I think yer daddy's happier than ya'd expect. He's proud of ya, I can see it when he talks about ya," he said, staring intently at Beth's downturned face. "I know it seems like anythin' could happen since yer mom passed… Trust me, I know. Lost my own in a house fire when I was jus' a kid. Life goes on, and there ain't no reason it's gotta get worse from here."

He expected a bigger reaction when he revealed his own little secret. But Beth didn't seem shocked, only empathetic. She looked up and met his eyes, and he saw a recognition spark, like she was reaching out and grasping the one common thread between them. Finally – someone to _connect_ with, someone who'd made it out of the grief.

"I wanna believe that, but I don't think anyone else around me does," she said sadly. "Everybody's so… wrapped up. And what if somethin' happened to Daddy? What would happen to the farm? Where would Maggie an' Shawn go, and me? They all devote their lives to it, but it could fall apart at any minute, and we'd be… lost. I dunno how t'help."

Daryl set his plate and fork down on the coffee table, standing from the chair and walking over to a cabinet in the kitchen. He opened it and pulled out a glass bottle full of clear liquid and two small glasses, then returned to his seat. He set the glasses down on the table between himself and Beth, in the space that wasn't occupied by the plates of half-eaten fish.

"What's that?" Beth asked as she curiously watched him unscrew the lid of the bottle and carefully pour a few ounces into each glass.

He picked up the glasses and held one out to her, holding the other near his mouth. "Here. We're gonna drink an' feel good tonight 'cause we never know what could happen tomorrow."

Beth's face was doubtful as she took the glass from him, smelling the liquid in hesitance.

"An' that's alrigh'. 'Cause that's life," he added, then put the glass to his lips and tossed back the shot. It burned on the way down his throat and sent a chill up his spine.

To his pleasant surprise, when he lowered the glass again and looked at Beth, she was throwing back her own shot, cringing as it went down. He watched her with amusement and when her eyes met his, she looked like she'd just eaten an especially sour lemon.

"What is that?" She asked, coughing a bit after the words came out.

He chuckled. "Moonshine. Never had it?"

She shook her head. "Never been offered. All I've ever heard about it was what my daddy told me – an' he said bad moonshine could make ya go blind."

Daryl nodded, pouring two more shots into the glasses. "Yer daddy's a smart man. Don't worry, though, it ain't bad. Might have a headache in the mornin', 'sall."

"Well that's inevitable," Beth retorted, taking her glass happily and clinking it against Daryl's in cheers right before they both tipped their heads back and swallowed the harsh liquid once more.

Daryl slammed his empty glass down on the table, breathing out as if he'd just taken a long drink of water in a drought, and stood up, an idea popping into his head. He rushed around the chair and to the drawer of his nightstand. When he found what he was looking for, he held them up in his fist triumphantly.

"Uh, what –"

"Y'said ya liked darts. Wanna play a quick round?" He offered, and she stood up with a smile on her face, apparently excited about the idea.

To be honest, he was desperate to pull her out of the overly-emotional state she was in, because she was beginning to take him there with her. And maybe distracting her would help lift the mood. Besides, he hated wasting a good buzz on sad stories and bad feelings.

The dartboard was posted on the wall right between the living space and the bed area. Daryl let Beth go first, instructing her to use one board on the floor in particular as the marker for where to stand. When she chucked her first dart toward the board, it embedded itself in one of the edges, just short of any actual points. She groaned and chucked her second dart, actually making a couple of points this time, but still not satisfied. When she threw the last dart, squinting one eye and concentrating in a way that Daryl couldn't help but find slightly adorable (although he'd never admit _that_ to any living person), the sharp tip found its way to just outside the bullseye circle. She smiled proudly and looked to Daryl, who nodded.

"Not bad," he commented, retrieving the darts from the board and handing them back to Beth. He then took his own position at the floorboard and threw his darts, one at a time. Sadly, he found himself rusty from not having played in many months, and his darts fell more than short of the bullseye, gaining him only a few more points than Beth. Or maybe the long day of fishing and drinking was throwing off his hand-eye coordination.

He turned around to see where Beth had gone and found her across the room, pulling her Bluetooth speaker back out and fiddling with her phone. She looked up and smiled when she saw him watching her, picking a song and turning up the volume.

"It's too quiet in here," she explained, setting the speaker down on the kitchen counter with her phone and rejoining him to take her turn.

He didn't say anything, choosing instead to stand back and watch Beth throw her darts, this time with more precision. He knew not to expect anything he actually liked to be coming from the speaker, but he hadn't expected 80s pop to start playing. If he wasn't mistaken, the song she'd just put on was by Journey – a band from way before her time.

"Whadd'you know 'bout this music?" He asked teasingly as she pulled her darts from the board and he prepared to take his turn.

She shrugged, a genuine smile on her face for the first time in at least an hour. It eased his mind to see her enjoying herself again. If nothing else, at least they didn't have to end the night on a bad note.

The music echoed softly in the small cabin as the mismatched pair played their game of darts, points racking up in Daryl's head. The songs moved from Journey to Michael Jackson to Toto to the _Grease_ soundtrack, and the only thing making the music bearable was the way Beth would bob her head to the beat while she retrieved her darts or watched Daryl throw. When she started to sing along a few times, only for half a verse each time, he found himself wishing she'd keep going. Even though the music wasn't his preference, he found something intriguing about her voice when she sang along, so natural and welcome to his ears.

Or maybe it was just the moonshine settling in his belly.

When the next song began, Daryl let out a groan.

"What?!" Beth put her hands up in question.

"Eddie Money? _Really_?" He asked her with a smile, and she realized he was talking about the music.

She laughed and began to sing along, obviously in spite of him, getting a little more into it and starting to animate the vocals with her hands, " _I feel a hunger, it's a hunger, that tries to keep a man awake at night…!_ "

Daryl stood still and crossed his arms over his chest, letting a smile remain on his face as he watched her with amusement. She bobbed her head around carelessly and sent tendrils of damp blonde hair flying about her face. He was beginning to wonder how embarrassed she'd be to remember this come the next morning.

One of the darts she'd had clutched in her hand flew from her grasp amidst her performance and bounced across the wood floor, landing to rest near Daryl's foot. He immediately reached down to grab it, but when he stood up straight again, he found Beth to be suddenly _extremely_ close to him. She appeared to have moved to grab the dart as well, and now they found themselves inches apart, standing rather awkwardly together.

But she didn't move to step away. And neither did he.

For some reason, instead of stepping back or simply handing the dart over and walking away, Daryl found his eyes drifting from the bright blueness of hers to stare at her pink, chapped lips. They were slightly parted and she looked about to say something, but she was frozen in place.

The song was still playing around them, and without Beth singing over it, the lyrics floated clearly into Daryl's ears as he tried to tear his eyes away…

" _I can feel you bre-e-e-eathe,  
I can feel your heart beat fas-ster…_"

Before he could think or move or speak, and before Beth could exhale the breath she was holding in her chest, he found himself leaning forward – not even an inch, not even a centimeter. Just enough to make it known that he was moving forward, however slowly. And she didn't pull away. She didn't let out that breath. Her eyes darted to his mouth, his own lips, making just the slightest movement in her direction. And for a second, he thought he saw her lean in, too. Was he imagining it? She'd begun to move, begun to think _yes_ … but then stopped. And he wondered if he'd even seen it at all. But he could smell the fish and the moonshine and a faint peach essence…

Without warning, she reached out and snatched the dart from Daryl's hand, immediately taking a large step backward and completely out of his personal space, as if she'd just snapped back to reality. She straightened herself up and turned away from him, looking down at the ground awkwardly. Her cheeks, already flushed before, were now deep red. He straightened his back as well, putting on a passive face – already trying to forget what just happened.

But Daryl couldn't ignore how fast his heart was racing right now. Or the knot that was heavy in his throat.

 **to be continued…**

* * *

 **A/N:** So due to me wanting to fit a very particular set of events to happen in this chapter because I wanted them to be in Daryl's POV, and due to my extremely over-descriptive writing, this ended up being about twice as long as it would normally be. I know - you're probably all disappointed because you really wanted Daryl to lay Zach out or whatever. But I've tried to portray Daryl as how I think he would kind of HAVE to be in order to be in the occupation he's in and deal with a boss like Gregory. So he's learned to manage his anger pretty well by now, but I feel like he's still very guarded, doesn't realize when he's being rude sometimes, and still maybe a little emotionally stunted. Anyway, I hope you liked the chapter, and even if you didn't, please let me know! Thanks for reading!


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